


Once a Jedi

by skyguyandsnips



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, post season five finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyguyandsnips/pseuds/skyguyandsnips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Jedi Order is out of Ahsoka Tano's life for good—or so she thinks. When her new home of Christophsis is attacked by the Separatists, she gets injured trying to defend fellow civilians. Thankfully, the Republic shows up just in time to save the day... in the form of Torrent Company, headed by none other than Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka's old Jedi Master. Post Season Five finale. (Originally posted on Fanfiction.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of All People

The first and only thing Ahsoka Tano became conscious of as she awoke was the pain in her chest. Though the edge was taken off—with what she knew were military grade painkillers—it was still overwhelming, making her head pound. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She closed them back almost instantly, and then opened them again just slightly, squinting through her thick eyelashes.

_A medical center… I’m in a medical center…_

The white walls and floor reflected the florescent lights blindingly, covering the room in what, to her, seemed like death—a bright white haze. Except for one, shadowy corner that a chair was crammed into with a person sitting on it, dozing—a person she’d never thought she’d see again in her life:

Anakin Skywalker.

Her barely stifled gasp startled him out of his sleep, and he quickly sat up, surveying the room and rubbing at his blue eyes.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he murmured tiredly, relaxing back into the chair. Immediately, he stiffed. “You’re awake.” He got to his feet and began to pace the small room. “That was a stupid move, Sni… Miss Tano. You should have waited for me and the clones to arrive, not charged into an entire battalion of droids,  _unarmed_. According to the med droid, two inches to the right and you would have gotten shot in the heart.”

Ahsoka blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Her brain was processing things at an annoyingly slow pace, thanks to the painkillers.

“Oh,  _that_ ,” she muttered, mildly surprised by how weak her voice sounded. She moved to Christophsis a little over two months ago—with some help from Padmè Amidala—soon after leaving the Jedi Order. The planet finally just finished rebuilding from the  _first_  Battle of Christophsis, and even though it held memories—painful memories—it wasn’t often bothered by the Clone War or frequented by Jedi.

It was the perfect escape from her old life.

_Well, that’s what I thought_.

She glanced down at the thick white gauze poking through the neck of her hospital gown. It was almost a visual confirmation she couldn’t hide from the Order or the War. Trust both to show up in the form of a man not much older than Anakin pounding on her door at five in the morning, yelling about battle droids and telling her to run.

And trust her to do the exact opposite.

Ahsoka started to sit up, but she stayed put when a wave of nausea washed over her. “…don’t you have more important things to do than yell at me?” she asked quietly, closing her eyes. “It’s not exactly your job anymore.”

She and Anakin hadn’t even been reunited for ten minutes and the Jedi Knight didn’t so much as say  _hello_  before chewing her out. Like this was some sort of almost failed mission, she was still his padawan and he had the right to scold her for going into a situation she’d made a conscious choice to enter—with the complete knowledge that unarmed and out of practice, she might not survive. Whatever time warp Anakin’s mind was in, he needed to get it out of there.

Anakin said nothing in reply to her words, instead turning to the cold, empty void of space outside of the windows. He sighed, and then faced her again. “Ahsoka, look—”

_Beep_.

Anakin turned a cold glare down at his comlink, but answered the call anyway. “…Skywalker here.”

“The Jedi Council requests your presence, General.” The clone’s voice was distorted by the com’s speakers. “The transmission is live, not prerecorded.”

“Tell them I’ll be right there.” Anakin cut the signal. He looked up at Ahsoka again, an almost apologetic look on his face. “I’ll be back.”

Ahsoka didn’t bother to acknowledge this, simply watching him leave. Her eyes darted to the window he’d stood in front of, and she took in the stars. Mere months ago, her mind would have raced, trying to guess which ones were actually planets and if she’d ever get to see them all.

But now… she just wanted to go home, to Christophsis. And get as far away from the Jedi Order as possible.

* * *

 

Anakin marched through the halls of the medical center, hands held tightly behind his back and his nose filled with the smell of antiseptic. Its bitter scent seemed fitting, considering how in a mere forty-eight hours his life had been shaken out of the agonizing but needed order he’d managed to attain in Ahsoka’s absence.

Clones didn’t even bother to salute when he passed, hurriedly shuffling aside to let him through. They knew the look on his face. It meant General Skywalker was on the warpath, and anyone who got in the way was as good as dead.

Anakin hadn’t known what to think when Rex had called him to the side after the battle, saying there was  _something he should see_  and avoiding his eyes. But he should have guessed. Christophsis had always proved to be a pivotal place for him and Ahsoka.

He just hadn’t expected to enter the tent the medics had set up to see her with a hole in her chest, half dead. The clones who were present debriefed him on everything—Ahsoka rushing to their aid, refusing to abandon the fight even though she was unarmed and there wasn’t a blaster to spare, Force crushing droids left and right, one battle droid getting in a lucky shot…

The med droid’s words still haunted him:  _“Two inches to the right and all her vital functions would have ceased.”_

Two inches, one for every year she had been his apprentice.

_“It’s not exactly your job anymore.”_

Ahsoka was right. It  _wasn’t_  his job to go out of his mind over her anymore. But it had been his job once, and so far no one else stepped up to the task. Or, frankly, proven they were capable—and, if such a thing existed, worthy—of it.

Maybe, if he fooled himself, he could let pretend he did have more important things to do than look after Ahsoka, if only to give her some peace… but reporting to the Jedi Council sure as the living, breathing Force was  _not_  one of those things.

“Masters,” he said, bowing as he entered the comm room and found flickering blue holograms of Yoda, Mace Windu, Plo Koon and Obi-Wan waiting for him. “You asked to see me?”

“True it is that Former Padawan Tano has been located?” Yoda didn’t waste time, and Anakin knew by the troubled looks Plo and Obi-Wan traded they thought the words  _Former Padawan Tano_  might set him off.

“…yes, on Christophsis. She was injured while defending fellow civilians from droids. Nothing too severe, just a bad blaster wound. She should make a quick recovery.” Anakin crossed his arms.  _Why_  was the Council so interested in Ahsoka—she was merely a civilian on record, and sans Obi-Wan they didn’t exactly have a history of treating her right. 

Mace Windu stepped forward. “In light of past events, Skywalker, the Council has decided to allow Tano to stay in the Temple med bay until she recovers from her injuries, so that she may receive the best care possible.”

Anakin nearly burst out laughing. If he was Ahsoka, he wouldn’t have even wanted to lay eyes on the Jedi Temple, much less step inside of it while he was at his most vulnerable. After all the stunts they pulled, the Council just expected her to forgive and forget? They had to be on deathsticks— _strong_  ones, at that. “Are you… sure, Masters, that Ahsoka will be open to this? I, by law, can’t move her out of this medical center without her consent unless her life is in danger. And to be fair, she’s tired and on painkillers.”

“True,” Obi-Wan cut in, breaking his silence. “Her judgment could be clouded. We do not need her making a choice she’ll regret later.”

Anakin resisted the urge to glare at his former Master. Ahsoka’s judgment wasn’t  _clouded_ , especially not because of some cheap Republic meds. She was exercising better judgment than all of them by simply staying far,  _far_  away from the Order.

He wondered if her even knowing he was on this medical station was a good thing. Perhaps he should have left well enough alone and made her room some sort of restricted zone for him and any clones she knew. Ahsoka pushed the Jedi and the War out of her life for a reason—it wasn’t his choice to bring either of them back into it, no matter how many droids she got rid of.

Plo Koon nodded in agreement with Obi-Wan. “Even presenting her with this choice could cause unnecessary stress. But a decision has to be made, and only by her. The Council has little to no bearing on her life now.”

Anakin hoped he imagined it, but Plo’s voice sounded a little sad at the end.

“Matters to attend to, the Council has, but await an answer from Former Padawan Tano, we do.” Yoda inclined his head. “The Force, be with you it may, Skywalker.”

“And with you, Masters.” Anakin nodded as the holograms dissipated, turning and leaving the room. As he moved back into the main part of the bridge the clones shot each other alarmed looks, but then relaxed when they saw the purposely calm expression he had forced his face to take on.

They, like almost everyone else, overestimated his ability to brush off things the Council did—things that drove a part, if not all of him, insane.


	2. Why Not?

“…the Council wants to know if you’d like to receive treatment in the Temple.”

Ahsoka sincerely hoped she heard Anakin wrong.

The Council wanted her,  _of all people_ , to come back to the Temple to get treatment? The girl they kicked out of the Order, the girl they chased for weeks like an animal instead of a sentient being?

The girl they almost got put to death?

“ _No_.” Ahsoka closed her eyes, clenched the sheets of her bed in her hands and took a deep breath before she said any more.  _Chaos no,_  she added silently. How  _dare_  the Council. After everything they’d put her through, they expected her to come back to the Temple—to  _heal_  ? Though she’d never commit any of the acts the Mirialan had, she was starting to see just why Barriss grew disillusioned by the Order more and more every day. “I’m fine with this med center.”

Anakin let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m sorry I have to ask this of you, but the Council—”

“The Council would never make the Anakin Skywalker I know do anything. What’s really going on here?” Ahsoka opened and narrowed her eyes.

Anakin didn’t answer the question, but pain flickered across his face for a split second. “I  _know_  the Order failed you—”

Ahsoka held up a hand to cut him off again. “The Order didn’t let me down. The Jedi did.” The values of the Jedi were sacred to her. She loved what they stood  _for_ , not what she now saw they were: too blinded by their own pride and perceived righteousness, fighting in a war that defied every single one of their principles. They were supposed to be defenders—no,  _keepers—_  of the peace, not warriors.

Why couldn’t anyone see that?

“That makes… no sense.” Anakin looked genuinely confused. “What are you trying to say? The  _people_  did?” He paused, absorbing the words. His voice got quiet. “Are you trying to say I failed you? That  _I’m_  the reason you don’t want to come to the Temple?”

He looked like a truth he already knew had just been confirmed.

“You didn’t  _fail_  me; I’m living proof of that.” Ahsoka groaned, flopping back into her pillows. How the  _heck_  did Anakin come to that conclusion? Fail was too strong, too final of a word anyways. “I just… look, I have nothing against the Order, but how am I supposed to trust something that knew me for thirteen years and  _still_  thought I would do all those horrible things?” Whether Anakin thought she was being unreasonable or not, the Temple was the last place she wanted to be.

“I just want you to get the best care possible. This med center is military run—there’s pressure for patients to heal as fast as possible so the next wave can come in. At the Temple, you can take as much time as you need to truly decompress and have a chance to let things soak in, as well as have an opportunity to talk the Council members and get clarity from them, if you want.” Anakin sighed, still looking like he doubted that he wasn’t at fault for her leaving. “But like Master Plo said, it’s your choice. The Council has no bearing on your life anymore and…” He bit his lip. “Neither do I.”

_Do it,_  a voice in the back of Ahsoka’s head prompted suddenly.  _Go to the Temple. You’ve got nothing to lose. And their medical services_  are  _top notch._

She broke eye contact with Anakin.  _There isn’t a single reason besides that I can think of that lets me know I should. The Council ruined my life, and I haven’t really made much progress in fixing it. So… why?_

_Why_  not _?_

Ahsoka bit her lip as Anakin stood and moved towards the door, not looking at her. He seemed to think she already made up her mind. It was now, or never. “Fine, I’ll do it.”  _What am I doing?_  “I’ll go to the Temple.”

She felt surprise and then joy spike in the Force as Anakin froze, hand hovering over the button that would open the door. He then nodded and then pressed the button. The door opened with a  _whoosh_. “I’ll inform the Council immediately.”

Ahsoka sighed as he left. She trusted Anakin. She trusted him with her life, and he’d given her reason to time and time again.

But she did  _not_  trust the Council. She hoped the Jedi Knight understood that.

* * *

 

“…she said yes?” Saesee Tinn looked surprised. His and the rest of the Council’s holograms seemed to flicker with shock. “I’m going to tell you the truth, Skywalker: we were not expecting this.”

“So your invitation to her was an  _empty promise_  ?” Anakin raised an eyebrow, suddenly hoping he hadn’t guilted Ahsoka into her decision. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel was pressured—especially by him—only for it to turn out the Council was just extending false olive branches.

_You’re exaggerating. The Council might be idiotic, but they’re not trying to hurt anyone_  . Though Anakin knew this was true, he was seriously starting to doubt it.

“No, of course not,” Obi-Wan said with a puzzled look. “Where would you even  _get_  such an idea? It is just that this is an interesting turn of events.”

“I suppose so, but this is hardly the first time Ahsoka has surprised us with her choices concerning the Jedi.” Anakin made a point to look as many Council members as he could in the eye when he said this. “We should be on Coruscant before tomorrow evening. I’ll report to you when we’ve arrived.” He then cut the transmission.

He himself hadn’t been in the Temple for weeks, but he knew for a fact the news of Ahsoka’s decision exploded from the bottom of its foundation to the tips of its spires, engulfing it in a mushroom cloud of half-truths and rumors. Ahsoka wouldn’t care, of course. She’d simply flip one of her head tails and strut right into the med bay—bandages and all—with a  _missed me_?

But no matter what his former padawan said, he  _had_  failed her. “  _You didn’t even try to try to come and help me.”_  Though her emotions had clearly been clouding her judgment when she said that in the tunnel all those weeks ago on, she told the truth. Him making an actual effort to at least check on and comfort her when she’d been arrested for Letta Turmond’s murder would have made a galaxy of difference; spared everyone the shock of what would happen afterwards and, eventually, him the ache of what never would.

Taking a breath, he studied the brightly lit communications console and brought up a hologram of available contacts, selecting the section marked  _Jedi Commanders_. There. The Republic had obviously not gotten any memos, because under the T’s was  _Tano, Ahsoka (Padawan)_. Next to it was a small but smiling headshot of her. It was about six months out of date, but he remembered when they’d gone to take the photo:

_“Don’t smile, Snips. It’s an official picture.”_

_“What do you mean you ca—smile with your eyes, then.”_

_“Jedi don’t slouch.”_

_“You sure you don’t want to want to wear robes?”_

_“Hey, no one’s questioning your fashion sense.”_

Something made him tap Ahsoka’s name. There was no answer, and the call quickly timed out. And though he knew it was because the line simply didn’t exist anymore, it made a part of him hurt. He tapped the name again, twice, quickly pressing the  _delete contact_  button.

That didn’t make him feel much better.


	3. Insolence Will Not Be Tolerated

“We’re here.” Anakin laid a hand on and shook Ahsoka’s shoulder as the gunship gently rocked to a stop.

She opened her eyes, sitting up as the doors on either side of the ship slid back, revealing a brightly lit, deserted hangar. Both walls were lined with speeders, starfighters, and more gunships. Anakin grabbed her bag and immediately stepped out the ship, starting across the hangar at a brisk pace in the direction of the exit. But Ahsoka stayed put.

As huge as the Temple was, it had many hangars. But she knew  _this_  hangar was the one she’d been accused of bombing. And, sure enough, she could hear the now faint screams of the dead—the ones Anakin mentioned when they’d been investigating the bombing—in the Force now. She felt a pang in her chest. Once upon a time, everyone thought  _she_  was responsible for those screams.

Anakin halted. “Ahsoka?” he asked, turning around to look at her with a concerned frown. “Are you okay?”

Ahsoka got to her feet and exited the ship, breaking into a slow jog to catch up with the Knight. “I’m fine,” she lied. “The droid just did my bandages too tight.”

“Mark my words, because that excuse for a med droid is getting a memory wipe, ASAP.” Anakin narrowed his eyes and started walking again when Ahsoka reached him. “Or, better yet, decommissioned—”

“There you are, Skywalker.” The doors to the hangar opened, and through them strode Mace Windu. A very annoyed Mace Windu. “You’re late.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow. “I’ve ten minutes to spare, Master.”

Windu merely glanced at him. “But it would have taken you at least thirty minutes to settle in Former Padawan Tano and another ten to reach the High Council Chamber. Therefore, you are late.”

Ahsoka couldn’t help but give the Jedi Master a look that said  _are you serious_? She knew for a fact Windu wasn’t Anakin’s biggest fan, simply saw her as some sort of scaled down version of the Knight and, ultimately, trusted neither of them— _“The Jedi Council has decided Padawan Tano is guilty of sedition against the Republic.”_ —but this was ridiculous. She crossed her arms, softly deadpanning, “Good evening to you too, Master Windu.”

Windu’s gaze flickered to her, and his features hardened into his infamous death glare. “Insolence is not tolerated in the Temple, Former Padawan Tano. I trust you know this?”

Ahsoka didn’t flinch. She didn’t remember anything about that rule. “I prefer Miss Tano.”

“Once a Jedi, always a Jedi,  _Miss Tano_.” Windu turned back to Anakin. “It would be unwise to keep the Council waiting any longer, and the med bay is open twenty-four hours a day.” He turned on his heel and started back towards the door. “ _Former Padawan_  Tano, why don’t you accompany Skywalker and me?”

Ahsoka swore she felt her bandages wind themselves even tighter around her.  _Someone shoot me… again._

* * *

 

Anakin’s mouth hung slightly open as Windu disappeared into the Temple. “Ahsoka—” he stopped talking. There was nothing he could say. What had he  _done_? He should have never asked her to come to the Temple—defying the Council would have been easy; after all, it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d done so. And this time, he would pay dearly for complying. No.  _Ahsoka_  would pay dearly for it—for his mistake.

_As usual_ , he thought bitterly, turning to face his former apprentice.

Ahsoka blew air through and out her lips, suddenly looking much older than sixteen. “The Council doesn’t scare me.”

Anakin doubted that there was much that scared Ahsoka at all. Still, he could tell she was upset. “I know.” He sighed. “I didn’t think this through, I should have—”

_Beep_. His comlink went off.

“Skywalker, are you coming?” Windu’s voice was distorted by the tiny speaker.

Anakin could practically see the Jedi Master arching an eyebrow, and that mental image on top of  _everything_  was enough to make him to mutter something—something he hoped Ahsoka wouldn’t understand—under his breath in Huttese and end the call. “Ignore him. We’re going to the med bay.” He hit the button that said OPEN by the door and added, “Ladies first.”

Ahsoka moved into the Temple, frowning. “What about—”

_Screw the Council_ , Anakin thought. “I’ll handle them.” He couldn’t help but grin. “Besides, since when have we ever followed orders?”

A smile twitched at Ahsoka’s mouth. “Never,” she agreed. “But I’m not going to give them an  _excuse_  to kick me out. Orders are orders.”

“Where was that line of thought  _before_  you left?” When he had ordered her not to jump into the Underworld, specifically…“Kidding, we’ll go. But say the word and I will personally set every single one of them straight.”

“If by ‘set them straight’ you mean kick them off a cliff and into a sarlacc pit.” Ahsoka stopped and kicked out her foot for emphasis. “I’m saying nothing.”

Anakin watched as she shook her head and started moving again, folding her hands behind her back. He had missed her. Countless times, he would find himself in a jam on the battlefield and turn to ask empty air if it had any ideas—ideas just crazy, just bold enough to work and win them the day.

In a galaxy with a sense of justice, empty air, space, that Ahsoka would have filled.

_Whatever the Council has the audacity to say to her…_  He pulled his hands into fists  _. It had better be an apology_.

If it was anything else, they were going to regret the day they let him become a Jedi  _or_  gave him a padawan. Even if they had the sense to hire someone to spray him in the face and hold out a card that said  _do not get attached_  every time he’d pondered just how hard it was to remember life without Ahsoka, that was one thing they’d been too stupid to realize would never  _not_  happen.

_But to be honest, they’re too stupid to realize a lot of things_.


	4. Breakout

Anakin bowed slightly in greeting to Yoda as he and Ahsoka both came to a stop in the center of the circular, window lined Council room. He mentally frowned when he noticed only a few members were present besides the miniature Jedi Master—Obi-Wan, Mace Windu and Ki-Adi Mundi.

The entire Council would show up to mastermind Ahsoka's downfall and death, but merely a few of them to speak to her when their plans failed? Anakin was sure gaining the ability to spontaneously combust into flames was the only way he could ever express just how angry the Order made him sometimes.

"It's nice to see you, Ahsoka." Obi-Wan smiled, breaking the ice. "Tell us, how are you?"

Ahsoka returned the smile, though her version of it was noticeably more strained. "Fine, Master Kenobi."

"Glad, the Council is, to come to the Temple for treatment that you decided," Yoda said. He sounded fairly sincere.

Ki-Adi Mundi nodded. "It has given us the opportunity to inform you that the Council has decided, though not unanimously…" he trailed off, his pale eyes flicking to Mace. "…to  _apologize_  for our misguided actions during your trial."

"But let's be clear, Former Padawan Tano," Mace began quickly. "While perhaps we should have taken into account that you would not commit such horrible crimes, the evidence against you  _was_  overwhelming. It was either turning you over to the Senate or having the entire Order be viewed as self-serving and anti-Republic. A… tough choice, but one we were forced to make nonetheless. Our hands were tied. We apologize for the  _results_  of our actions."

Anakin bit his lip to keep from voicing his outrage. The Council absolutely  _sucked_ at apologies. He remembered Windu's unfair and insensitive words mere moments before Ahsoka left the Order: " _This was actually your great trial_." He'd been trying to suggest that everything Ahsoka went through was the third of the Jedi Trials—the Trial of Spirit.

_More like Torture of Spirit._

"I get it." Ahsoka met Mace's eyes, nodding as her lips folded into a thin line. "It was either kill or be killed."

"It was  _never_  our intention for you to come so close to a death sentence, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan said quickly in a soothing tone, shooting a glare at Mace. "We—"

"—did not have to  _kick her out the Order_  ," Anakin snapped. He was done standing on the sidelines. "You  _can't_  tell me with a straight face that was necessary. And what if she   _did_  get a death sentence? Would you have found some three thousand year old rule that when an apprentice gets one, their Master has to do the deed?"

Ahsoka's gaze darted to the lightsaber hilt clipped to his utility belt as soon as the words left his mouth, but she said nothing.

"Skywalker,  _stand down_ ," Mace warned. "I sense your judgment is clouded by your emotions—as I did during Former Padawan Tano's arrest and trial."

"You  _should_  have been sensing that Ahsoka wasn't guilty." Anakin narrowed his eyes as the entire room fell into a thick, prickling silence. And not because, once again, he'd said the wrong thing—at least in everyone else's opinion. No.

This time, he was undeniably right.

"Skywalker, take Former Padawan Tano to the medical bay, I believe you should." Yoda glanced in turn at everyone in the room. "Been a long day, it has. Dismissed, you are."

Ahsoka looked nothing but relieved as she and Anakin quickly bowed and left the room. She nodded a  _thank you_ when Anakin picked up her bag off the bench they'd waited on. "…that went well."

"I wish I had your optimism." Anakin let out a frustrated grumble and started towards the lift.

Ahsoka shrugged and then followed him. "For some  _stupid_   reason, I thought maybe they might have changed." She grimaced. "I thought maybe before I'd just been tired and my emotions were blowing that whole day out of proportion and…"

"…and now? Now what do you think?" Anakin asked quietly. He pressed the only button on a panel next to the turbolift, which was marked with a down arrow.

Ahsoka sighed. "I don't know what to think."

Anakin gestured for her to enter the lift as its doors opened. She moved inside, and then he did the same. "Me neither, Ahsoka," he said, running a hand through his hair as the lift doors closed. He pressed a button with HALLS OF HEALING written on it on the control pad, and the turbolift started moving downward with a jolt. "Me neither."

* * *

 

Ahsoka yanked her blanket off her face as she awoke the next morning. Almost immediately, she pulled it back up to avoid the painfully bright sunlight flooding the room. That was odd. She couldn't have slept in that late, and the beige walls surrounding her were making everything that much more confusing. Her room was painted cyan, like most things on Christophsis.

Where in the galaxy was she?

_Oh_. It took a moment, but she remembered. Remembered the honor-before-reason logic she'd exercised while running to the clones' aid. Remembered the overwhelming sting of getting shot, remembered her annoyance at waking up to Anakin's ever looming overprotectiveness, remembered the Council forcing him to ask her to come to the Temple.

Remembered just how much said council's idea of an apology made her want to scream.

_At least I'm not the only one_. She sat up, unable to keep from grinning. Anakin had all   _but_ kicked the Council off a cliff the night before. And though she doubted they suffered any major moral changes in less than twelve hours, at least everyone knew where everyone else stood.

Her smile faded as she realized that meant nothing had changed. The Council was still blindly stumbling along the path they were on, so completely sightless they mistook darkness for light.

It was why they fought the Clone War. Why they served a Senate with more problems than members. Why the terrorist, the murderer and the insincere 'friend' who'd stab someone in the back with a poison covered knife and twist it while they were at it had completely slipped under their radar.

Otherwise known as Barriss Offee—but Ahsoka tended to keep the names of monsters, of people who could fall so far and not have an ounce of shame about it, out of her vocabulary.

Not that she was any better than the Council in any of those respects; she'd once done and believed the exact same things.

_But at least I'm trying to fix that._

And only time would tell if she was going about fixing it the  _right_  way, because corrupt or not, the Republic and the Jedi were saints when compared to the Separatists. Wherever Count Dooku and his droid army went, they left footsteps of death and destruction behind them. She wasn't helping anyone but herself by not continuing to fight. But then again, maybe she was. No one liked an unenthusiastic commander who would just as soon get shot before being within a star system of her superiors.

Not even the bad guys.

_Whoosh._

The door slid open, and a skeletal medical droid entered. "Good morning, Former Padawan Tano. I need you to approve a list of Jedi who have requested visiting privileges." It started to hand her a datapad just as the door opened again.

"Morning, Ahsoka." Anakin didn't look like he'd gotten much sleep, but he seemed to be in a good mood anyways. He glanced with interest at the med droid, and then intercepted the datapad. Before Ahsoka could object, he quickly tapped at about half a dozen points on the touchscreen. Then, he handed it to her with a barely concealed grin and sat at the end of her bed. "Here, fixed it."

Ahsoka reviewed the screen and then let out a snort. Anakin had selected the  _no_ option for every member of the Council with pending visiting privileges but Obi-Wan, who was the only other person on the list except for Anakin with a  _yes._  "You're insane." She rolled her eyes.

"Better insane than… whatever the Council is," Anakin said, furrowing his eyebrows. "Is there even a word for what they are?"

Ahsoka shrugged. "Not one that wouldn't make our tongues fall out if we used it."

"True." Anakin nodded. "Hungry?"

"Uh-huh." Ahsoka set down the datapad. "I'll see you in the mess in ten."

Anakin made a face as he stood. "I passed the mess hall on the way here. Windu and some of the Council are in there."

"So?"

"I don't know about you, but that weird stare of theirs makes me lose my appetite."

Ahsoka had to fight to keep from snorting again. "What did you have in mind then?" She raised an eye marking.

Anakin started towards the door, throwing her a mischievous grin over his shoulder. "You'll have to see in ten minutes."

* * *

 

Anakin took a bite of fruit salad. Even though he hadn't been to the Cerulean Café in…   _years_ , going there had turned out to be a good idea. It was all blue inside, which was really,  _really_   weird as far he was concerned. Ahsoka seemed to like it, though. She'd relaxed the moment they'd stepped through the door.

_Maybe it reminds her of Christophsis._ That thought reminded   _him_ of something he'd been meaning to ask. "Ahsoka… what were you doing on Christophsis?"

Ahsoka looked up from her own food. She'd ordered the same thing as Anakin. "I live there." She gave him a confused look, like it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy.

"…why?" Christophsis was a nice planet, though the population was a little crazy about its blue. But Anakin just couldn't see Ahsoka there.

_Not that you can see her_ anywhere  _but the Temple, Skywalker._

Ahsoka studied Anakin, and then sighed. "Promise you won't laugh?" Once he'd nodded, she continued. "I found my destiny there once, I guess. Maybe… maybe I can again." She shrugged, eyes wandering to the speeders zipping by the window, shining brightly in the blinding sunlight.

Well, Anakin certainly hadn't been expecting  _that_  answer. But it made sense. He didn't respond, turning his attention back to his food as he mulled it over. Destiny was a funny thing: some found it, it found some… and others, well, they were led. But Jedi—including him—tended to ignore such notions, instead focusing on the will of the Force. It had been the will of the Force for Ahsoka to become his apprentice, for example.

But he refused to believe everything she'd suffered at the hands of the Council and the Republic was also its will.

After a while, an unsure microexpression crossed Ahsoka's face for a split second. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. "Are you… proud of me?"

Anakin choked on his mouthful of fruit. Oh, Force. Oh,  _Force._   The question hung in the air like mist, and the way Ahsoka stared at him with concern as he continued to hack and cough, so innocently, made everything that much worse. Because the last time she had spoken those words, asked that question, was on Mortis. When the Son turned her to the darkside and she fought Anakin with the intention to kill behind every blow.

_No_. He banished the thought. He hadn't dueled Ahsoka. He'd fought her fears, her insecurities. The living proof his fearless former Padawan wasn't so fearless. And guilt had eaten at him day and night ever since, because it seemed like almost all the fears and insecurities the Son had brought to the surface were  _his fault_ —him not trusting her, not believing in her, calling her a nickname it turned out she'd hated all along.

And to think once he was so sure taking Ahsoka on was the one thing he'd gotten right in his life.

Sometimes, he wondered if he had just done as every other Jedi would and killed her right then and there, maybe he could have spared her from what was to come—from Tarkin, from Barriss and, ultimately, the Jedi Order itself. But that would have meant accepting she was well and truly gone.

And as the last couple months had proven, he was utterly incapable of that.

Ahsoka relaxed when his choking finally subsided, only for her face to fall. His silence seemed to be confirmation. Of something Anakin knew she was sure she'd only felt or thought and did not know she'd told him. "Forget I said anything."

"No." Anakin shook his head, took a swig of water and quickly tried to backtrack. "That was… bad timing. Of course I'm proud of you." He  _was_. Maybe he didn't always show it, maybe he had found her an annoying and unnecessary burden in the beginning, but he was more proud of her than he ever thought he could be of anyone. She managed— _had_ managed—even with his unorthodox teaching methods, to give all the other apprentices in the Temple a run for their money.

And it was high time she knew that.

"Really," Ahsoka said, staring down at her dark orange hands. "Just… forget it."

"Snips, I—"

"Don't call me that."

" _Don't call me that! I_ hate   _it when you call me that!"_ Anakin wished the ground would open up and swallow him into the depths of Coruscant as Ahsoka's darkside warped voice echoed in his mind. "Check, please," he weakly told the waiter when she walked over. Within minutes, he and Ahsoka were trudging out the Cerulean Café, negative emotions rolling off them both and into the Force.

"…Tano…"

"…bombing… murder… Turmond… did it…"

Anakin stopped walking. "Someone—" he started.

Ahsoka groaned, cutting him off. She'd obviously heard it too. "Where's the speeder?"

"Two blocks away." Anakin turned around, looking for the source of the overheard conversation. His eyes landed on a middle-aged Mirialan man and woman sitting in the outdoor area of a café about fifteen meters away. He wouldn't have even noticed them if it weren't for the fact they were both looking at Ahsoka with the same expression someone who tasted something bad would, their nearly full, steaming mugs of caf forgotten. He frowned. "Staring is rude, you know."

"So is terrorism." The woman moved her glare from Ahsoka and leveled it at him. "And murder."

Ahsoka visibly stiffened, but did not turn around. "Anakin,  _no_ …"

"Ahsoka," Anakin said in an undertone. "You can't just let—"

_You think I haven't dealt with this before_? Ahsoka switched to the bond, and Anakin could feel the young Togruta's present but eerily tranquil fury.  _The entire galaxy saw that trial—the_  entire galaxy _, Anakin. I know what I'm doing._

_Maybe, but so do I—you said it yourself: Jedi don't run._  Anakin turned his attention back to the couple and crossed his arms. "They are. But I don't see how that has anything to do with my friend here."

The man scoffed. "Typical of the Jedi Order, always blind to their members' faults. They've got the senate wrapped around their finger too. How else do you think your  _friend_  escaped punishment?"

"Evidence," Anakin replied, narrowing his eyes. "Cold, hard evidence found by me."

"Cold,  _faked_  evidence," the woman mocked, taking a sip of her caf.

Anakin almost wanted to check and see if steam was coming out of his ears. He'd never been overly tolerant of conspiracy theorists, and now that they were coming for Ahsoka, he was absolutely done with them. "… _no_. Barriss Offee confess—"

The man cut him off. "So? Our son was a temple worker; he got killed in the bombing. I'm pretty sure I can tell who did and did not murder my son."

"I'm sorry about your loss, but I'm pretty sure you  _can't_  ." Anakin held up a hand. "My padawan is far from perfect, but—"

" _[…] my padawan."_  The words hung like bad perfume in the air. They were jarring. They didn't belong, and if they did it was in a time gone by. Ahsoka turned back slightly and stared at Anakin with something he was sure could make Count Dooku himself wither away in an instant. Something he was sure was the closest thing to hatred she would ever have for him. The rest of the galaxy seemed to fall away, and it was just them—former master and apprentice. Both living proof of what horrors the Jedi Order was capable of, living proof of his mistakes, living proof of him having gone too far.

The galaxy rushed back, in all its complicated glory.

"Ahsoka,  _wait_." Anakin ignored the couple as they traded genuinely confused looks. "I—"

Ahsoka didn't even spare him a glance. "I'll see you at the Temple." Her tone was flat, empty, and had such a dismissive finality to it he almost winced. She started walking away, pulling her fingers into tight fists. Anakin quickly moved to follow—

_Beep._

"Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice crackled through his comlink before he could even accept the call. An override code had been used. Whatever was happening, his former Master thought it was important enough to not chance Anakin ignoring him. "Report to the Temple immediately."

" _What_?" Anakin wanted to throw his comm, wanted watch the tiny device shatter into a billion pieces on the pavement and never order a replacement. What he did  _not_ want to do was deal with the Council, especially right now. But, to his silent relief, Ahsoka stopped and turned around to listen. "I'm…  _busy_ , Obi-Wan. Can it wai—"

"Barriss Offee has escaped from prison."


	5. Consequences

“What happened?” Ahsoka fumbled at her seatbelt with shaking hands as Anakin parked the speeder in the Temple hangar. “Who let her out?”

“Snips,” Anakin said, unbuckling his own seatbelt. “We don’t know if she used someone on the inside or if it was as simple as a mind trick. We don’t know  _anything,_  yet. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“I don’t know if you thought I was kidding when I said not to call me that, but I wasn’t. So  _don’t_.” Ahsoka’s gaze hardened as she finally got her seatbelt to unbuckle. Anakin seemed to have forgotten that she wasn’t a Jedi. She felt a stab of rage— _my padawan_? The very thought of his words made an odd assortment of emotions threaten to explode out of her, everything from anger to annoyance to pure, unadulterated hurt.

Hurt was the one she wasn’t quite willing to face. Not yet. She couldn’t let herself admit that though she had not an ounce of interest in the Order itself, she…  _missed_  being Anakin’s apprentice—belonging. Missed the banter, the missions, the inside jokes and the talks late into the night. And, most of all, she missed how when they fought side by side  _every_  battle seemed to be the one that would end the Clone War.

Still. That did not mean she was any less upset with him—or wanted to be called Snips.

“Sorry,” Anakin muttered. Both he and Ahsoka got out of the speeder, she slamming her door closed again with more force than necessary at the same moment he did. “We’re due in the Council chamber in twenty minutes. I’ll comm you.” He stomped out of the hangar without another word.

Ahsoka didn’t bother to remind him she no longer  _had_  a comlink, waiting until she was sure he was gone and then leaving herself. She stopped just to the left of the hangar doors to think. Twenty minutes—that was plenty of time for both her and Anakin to calm down. And in this moment, she could think of only one way to do that: meditation.

She hurried over to the turbolifts lining the left wall, pushing the down arrow on one of the control panels. The doors to one of the lifts parted almost immediately, and she paused to see if anyone would exit through them. No one did, so she entered.

Only to come face to face with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He glanced up from fiddling with his comlink, looking surprised. “Oh, good afternoon, Ahsoka,” he said, inclining his head slightly and then gesturing to the control panel as the doors closed behind Ahsoka. “What might be your destination?”

“…the Room of a Thousand Fountains,” Ahsoka answered hesitantly, not mentioning why she was going there.

“That happens to be exactly where I was heading.” Obi-Wan looked amused, glancing at the already lit ROOM OF A THOUSAND FOUNTAINS button on the control panel. “Showing up early for the meeting, are you then? Where’s Anakin?”

Ahsoka ignored the question about the Jedi Knight as the lift shuddered and then started moving downwards. She did not know nor currently  _care_  where Anakin was. “The meeting’s going to be in the Room of a Thousand Fountains? Why?”

“The Council does gather there occasionally, and Master Yoda thinks doing that this time will… help keep everyone calm.” Obi-Wan snorted wryly. By everyone, he obviously meant Anakin and Mace. The pair rode in silence for a while, before Obi-Wan started messing with his comm again. “Blast it…”

Ahsoka glanced over at him. “Is something… wrong with it, Master Kenobi?”

“No. It’s just that it seems your former Master has turned his own comlink off.” Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed. “…or broken it. I neglected to mention we’re not meeting in the Council room the last time I commed him. And for some reason, the override code isn’t worki—”

_Ding_.

The lift jolted to a stop, the doors sliding back to reveal a short but wide passage that ended at a tall, open pair of wooden double doors. Ahsoka didn’t wait for Obi-Wan to finish talking and exited the turbolift, moving quickly down the passage and then through the double doors onto a large stone platform with vine covered railings winding around the perimeter, with a path starting from each side.

A tall, nigh impenetrable wall of thickly leaved trees and plants took up most of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, with walkways crisscrossing through the trees almost up to the sunlit canopy, which was designed to look like a clear blue sky, but came across more like an overcast day with the sun reflecting off of the clouds. Ahsoka held up a hand, squinting as her eyes adjusted to this visual assault.

Obi-Wan finally gave up with his comlink and followed her out of the lift. “I think,” he yelled, struggling to be heard above the roar of countless waterfalls, big and small. “Anakin will have to figure this one out on his own.”

“Kenobi, is that you?” A large plant sagging with spiky, violently orange flowers by the entrance to one of the paths parted, revealing Mace Windu. His dark eyes flicked to Ahsoka, and he nodded curtly before vanishing back into the jungle. The plant snapped back into place, almost every flower on it dropping to the ground. “Now, we just need Skywalker…”

Obi-Wan started along one of the stone paths that led off the platform and snaked through the foliage, gesturing for Ahsoka to follow and gently pushing the pile of flowers to the side with his boot before matching speed with Windu. “I can’t reach him. Anakin, I mean. Even my override code isn’t working.”

Mace let out a frustrated sigh, lifting his comlink to his mouth and switching it from idle. “Comm Anakin Skywalker, override code  _alpha-gamma three-five-two-seven-sixty-nine-twelve_  .”

“Yes, Master Windu?” Anakin’s voice finally sounded through the tiny speaker, his words obviously forced through his teeth.

“The Council is meeting in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Even your former apprentice did not neglect to show up on time.” Mace exhaled loudly. “You are late. You have five minutes.”

“Master—”

“Four minutes, fifty-six seconds—and counting,” Mace cut Anakin off curtly.

“ _No_.” Anakin sounded frustrated. “You don’t understand—I just finished talking to Chancellor Palpatine… about Barriss Offee.”

“He contacted  _you_ , Skywalker? He bypassed the Council’s authority?”  Mace, even from behind, looked ready to explode. “Are you in the Senate?”

There was a long pause. If Anakin said yes, he would pretty much be digging his own grave.

“That’s not the  _point_.” Ahsoka pushed off the tree she’d been leaning against for the majority of the conversation and drew herself up to her full height. Mace turned to glare at her, probably about to recite one of the Jedi Order’s classic reprimands— _Padawans are only to speak when spoken to_  —but she just stuck out her hand for the comlink. “Let me talk to him.” She really didn’t want to talk to Anakin at all, but the Council seemed incapable of communicating without being complete jerks.

_You can’t fight idiocy with idiocy._

Mace paused, then pulled the tiny device off his gauntlet and grudgingly laid it in her hand. “You have five minutes.” He nodded at Obi-Wan and the two Jedi Masters continued down the path, leaving Ahsoka alone with the comlink.

“Anakin… what happened with Barriss?” Ahsoka said quietly, raising the comlink to her mouth. “And why did the Chancellor talk to you about it?”

“An investigation has already started into how she escaped, and some believe Count Dooku orchestrated the whole thing.” Anakin’s voice grew softer. “But…”

“…but what?” Ahsoka  _knew_  she wasn’t going to like the answer. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Barriss attacked a Jedi transport several hours after she escaped—a training transport.” Anakin paused, like he couldn’t decide whether or not to go on. “She’s taken younglings captive. Some of them are the ones you chaperoned to Ilum for The Gathering.”

Ahsoka closed her hand into a fist around the comlink and let her arms fall to her sides, saying nothing. She just stood there, stiller than any living being should be. If she had known this day, in a few short hours, would go so wrong, so fast, she would have taken advantage of the fact that she’d gotten shot and stayed in bed.

In fact, she would have never even come to the Temple in the first place.

* * *

 

“Ahsoka,” Anakin repeated her name for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Ahsoka, are you there?”

She hadn’t said a word since he’d told her about the younglings. And to be honest, he was worried about his former padawan—more than normal. Ahsoka was one of the strongest people he knew, sure, but one could only take so much, especially in such a short amount of time.

Finally, her voice crackled weakly through the comlink.  “You’re in the Senate, aren’t you?”

“Yes—” Anakin began, but then the line went dead. With a frown, he started down the hallway and towards the lifts. Ahsoka was obviously on her way to the Senate building, and he couldn’t help but let out a groan. There was something, something  _else_  he neglected to mention to Ahsoka.

Barriss had somehow gotten a holoprojector to the Chancellor’s office, and it was tuned to send and receive only one, untraceable signal that could be used to contact the manipulative Mirialan—a signal clearly meant for the Jedi Council.

_I’ll tell her when she gets here_. He rode a turbolift down to the ground level, stepping out the lift and milling around near the entrance to the Senate for about ten minutes. Finally, the main doors opened, Ahsoka walking hurriedly through them. He started to call her name to get her attention, but then faltered when the doors opened again.

“Skywalker,  _there_  you are.” Mace Windu strode into the Senate, along with Obi-Wan, Yoda and… Luminara Unduli _._  Well, then. It looked like if the Council couldn’t get Anakin to show up for a Council meeting, then they would bring the Council meeting to him.

Ahsoka made her way over to him. “I tried to leave the Temple undetected,” she muttered so only he could hear, “but Master Windu and Obi-Wan just  _had_  to know why I was ditching them.” She was the picture of irritation.

“They didn’t have to bring half of the entire kriffing Council with them,” Anakin grumbled, “  _and_  Master Luminara… that was just overkill.”

He had no doubt that the ride to the Senate had been the most awkward ever. Mace had probably said something else infuriating to Ahsoka, Obi-Wan glancing helplessly over his shoulder from the driver’s seat while the young Togruta just silently stared into the traffic, trying to ignore Windu’s words and Luminara at the same time.

Yoda had probably just eyed them all.

“Overkill is their specialty.” Ahsoka didn’t smile, and Anakin could tell from her flat tone her words weren’t meant to be taken as a joke. She sighed. “So…” She watched Yoda and the others enter one of the lifts. “You guys are going to be talking to the Chancellor, aren’t you?”

Anakin glanced down at her, a little puzzled with her choice of words. “That’s the plan.” He’d already spoken briefly with the old man only half an hour ago, but been interrupted by Windu and his favoring of override codes.

“I’ll just stay in the waiting room, then.” Ahsoka made a face. “I’m not one for fake smiling at people who tried to put me to death.”

“No one said you had to…” Anakin left the sentence hanging. He’d found yet another reason Ahsoka resigned from the Order: she’d rather roll off a cliff than stay in a Temple that would get smaller and smaller every day. Sure,  _he’d_  be a little—no,  _much_ —happier, but her entire existence would be tight smiles that never reached her eyes and clenched fists before every Council meeting or visit to the Senate, until it all became too much and she really  _did_  do something that would end a life.

Most likely—this new thought made his heart twist—her own.

Anakin shook his head to clear it. Ahsoka was alive, and maybe she wasn’t a Jedi, but in that moment she was with him and  _safe_. Well, as safe as anyone could be with Barriss on the loose. “I understand your sentiment. But you  _are_  aware Tarkin was behind most of that, right?” Even if he did agree with Ahsoka, he couldn’t just abandon Palpatine. The old man was one of the few true friends he had, and shared many of his opinions on the Jedi.

Besides, it wasn’t like the Chancellor had really  _wanted_  to get Ahsoka out of the picture.

…right?

Ahsoka gave Anakin an exhausted look. “You really want me to go, don’t you?”

“You already left me with the Council once,” Anakin said, jokingly but quietly. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for you to do that again.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and then walked over to the lifts. “Fine, but you owe me one.”

Anakin couldn’t help but grin. He knew Ahsoka was still upset with him for referring her to as his apprentice—Force, he was still upset with  _himself_  over that. But he was glad she hadn’t opted to give him the silent treatment as she normally tended to when she was mad.

Now, if only he could figure out how to apologize without making everything worse.

* * *

 

Ahsoka stood against the left wall of the Chancellor’s office with Anakin and Luminara, silently watching Masters Yoda, Windu and Obi-Wan confer with Palpatine. The whole process was just as boring as she remembered, and she suddenly felt very tired.

How in the galaxy did she used to do this for days or weeks at a time?

“Nodding off in official meetings is frowned upon,” Luminara said with a tiny smile, her voice carrying only to Ahsoka and Anakin. “I trust you know this, Ahsoka?”

Ahsoka was sorely tempted to retort back as she was yanked from the brink of sleep, but stopped. Snippiness was also frowned upon, when it came down to it. But just as she opened her mouth to try a more polite route, Anakin jumped in.

He stood with Ahsoka on his right side and Luminara on his left, creating an obvious barrier between the two women. One he didn’t seem content with removing anytime soon. “You’re fine, Ahsoka,” he flatly overrode Luminara’s reprimand. “It has been a long day, after all.” There was an edge to his voice, one Ahsoka didn’t quite understand.

But then, after a moment, she did: it had been a long day partially because Barriss had taken the liberty of breaking out of jail. Anakin seemed to be reminding Luminara, in no uncertain terms, that she needed to get her own former apprentice under control before she bothered with someone else’s.

Anakin had certainly never been one to sugarcoat things, but it would take all the fingers and toes in the room to count how many levels of harsh that was. He and Luminara traded calm but loaded looks and then fell back into silence, returning their attention to the meeting.

“Help us,” Yoda was saying, “having a way to contact her will.” He stopped, thoughtfully. “But come off as threatening, we should not.”

“I agree, Master Yoda.” Palpatine nodded as he gabled his fingers. “But I’m going to assume I don’t need to remind everyone here just how…  _much_  damage Padawan Offee is capable of, correct? In any case, I’m sure at least Former Padawan Tano knows.” He gave Ahsoka a pity filled smile from behind his desk.

It was one of the most insincere looks she’d ever seen in her life. The evil grins Ventress used to give her while trying to kill her seemed more real in comparison. “Yes, I suppose I do, Chancellor.”

Palpatine seemed to contemplate this before he reached somewhere under his desk and pulled out a handheld holodisc. He waited till everyone was done looking confused and then set it on the table with a clink and activated it.

A flickering blue hologram of Barriss Offee sprang up, and Ahsoka had never wanted so much in all her sixteen years to slap a smirk off someone’s face.

“Hello,” the Mirialan greeted, a poison to her politeness, “took you all long enough.”

“ _Barriss_ ,” Anakin snarled, marching over from the wall and coming to a stop behind the chairs Yoda and Mace sat in so he was in within range of the holodisc’s sensors. “Where are they? What have you done to them?”

“Who are ‘they’, Skywalker?” Barriss slowly, infuriatingly, raised a dark eyebrow.

“The younglings you kidnapped, he is referring to,” Yoda calmly clarified.

“And I think we would  _all_  like to know the answer to Skywalker’s question. This behavior is unacceptable.” Mace’s expression could have been etched in stone if his face wasn’t so twisted in disgust.

“There will be consequences,” Obi-Wan agreed, “regardless of whether or not you harm those younglings.”

“Consequences, Master Kenobi?” Barriss echoed, vaguely amused. She narrowed her eyes after a moment. “You do not know the meaning of the word. If such  _consequences_  are in store, tell me this: why has the Council not expelled me from the Order?”

Ahsoka’s gaze snapped from Barriss’ hologram to the Council as she slowly folded her arms across her chest. How had they  _not_  kicked Barriss out? After all the people she’d killed, all the despicable things she’d done, they let her stay anyway?

And Ahsoka thought she’d seen injustice. Somehow, this hurt more than having her head yanked back as a Jedi Guard ripped off her padawan braid and took with it everything she’d ever known, cut deeper than Tarkin looking her in the eye and promising her he’d see her put to death, hit harder than finding out that Barriss had flat out orchestrated the entire situation and made her rage burn both hotter and brighter than it had when Windu blamed the Council’s actions on the will of the Force.

She leaned against the wall on one hip and twisted the left corner of her mouth, simply just  _looking_  at Mace, at Yoda, at Obi-Wan. Finally, she opened her mouth.

But she didn’t have a chance to go off. Anakin beat her to it.


	6. The Perfect Mistake

 

Nearly knocking Mace Windu onto the floor, Anakin angrily pushed past the Jedi Master’s chair, grabbing the hilt of his lightsaber as if Barriss was really standing in the room.

“You smug piece of bantha fodder,” he hissed while activating the weapon, slicing at Barriss’ jugular and then crossing the blade back through her midsection. He went in for the kill, spinning around 360 and thrusting his lightsaber into her holographic heart, lunging so far forward that he landed on Chancellor Palpatine’s desk, lightsaber still drawn and pointing between the aged man’s eyes.

Palpatine leaned back slightly from the heat radiating off the weapon, without flinching. His face was as composed as ever, but the corners of his mouth turned up into a shadow of a smile and his eyes glinted slightly, as if he…  _enjoyed_  Anakin’s anger and sense of abandon.

Or maybe he was just so nervous he couldn’t do anything but look amused. Anakin couldn’t really tell.

“Skywalker,” Mace said, the warning in his voice bringing the Jedi Knight back. “Calm yourself.”

“I  _am_  calm.” Anakin whirled around, looking Mace in the eye as he clipped his lightsaber back onto his belt. What was wrong with the Council? Why did they decide that  _letting Barriss stay_  was a good idea? “Besides,” he snapped, turning back to and glaring at an unfazed Barriss. “Who can kick you out when you’re on the run?”

“Those were some lovely theatrics, Skywalker,” Barriss said as she rolled her eyes, bringing her hands together in mock applause a few times. “But doing all that for a  _hologram_  —life sized or not—just shows how incompetent you are.”

Anakin cut his eyes. It didn’t matter how incompetent he did or did not look.

No.

It only mattered that Barriss knew she could only hide for so long. He  _would_  find her, and when he did, she would regret ever breaking out of prison.

“’Incompetent’—you don’t know the meaning of  _that_  word,” Ahsoka ground out, pushing off the wall and stalking across the room and into the range of the holodisc’s sensors. Obi-Wan and Yoda traded looks, but she seemed to pay them no mind.

Barriss blinked, looking genuinely surprised at her sudden appearance. “You’ve been here the whole time? Well,” she said, “this is new. I was sure you walked out of the Temple in tears or something.”

“Yeah, well, I got better. No thanks to  _you_.” Ahsoka crossed her arms.

Anakin wondered just how true that was. His former apprentice seemed to be adjusting fine—better than him anyways—but this was two months after the fact. He had no way of knowing just  _how_  upset she’d been, unless she told him. And if Ahsoka was really as similar to him as he knew she was, he suspected she wouldn’t tell him a thing.

“It looks like you got  _shot_  to me.” Barriss’ dark blue eyes darted to the obvious bulk of bandages under Ahsoka’s top. “Pity whoever did it neglected to finish the job.”

“You’re certainly one to talk, because I was pretty sure that after two whole months you’d be a pile of ashes,” Ahsoka shot back. “As for kidnapping younglings, that’s low—even for you.”

“Yes, well.” Barriss shrugged. “I was simply in need of a lightsaber or two. And I like to have a wide variety of options.”

“Then tell me,” Anakin said in a slow, dark tone, “why those ‘options’ happen to include younglings you  _know_  Ahsoka knows?”

Barriss clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Skywalker, you should have not told me that. Because I did  _not_  know Ahsoka knew them. Now I shall enjoy killing them even more.”

“You lay a finger on them,” Anakin growled, stepping closer to the hologram, “and I will see to it you are the most wanted criminal in the galaxy.”

“Well, then.” Barriss grinned. “Let us get that process started.”

* * *

 

Barriss continued to smile, backing away from the sensors of her own holoprojector. After a few minutes, she returned, pushing forward two younglings: Katooni, a Tholothian girl and Petro, a human Corellian boy, both children about the age of nine or ten.

Katooni jumped to her feet, her eyes shimmering with hope as she took in Ahsoka, Anakin and the Council. She didn’t seem to notice just how pale and drawn their faces were. “…Ahsoka? Is that you?” She looked tired, but mostly unharmed.

Ahsoka felt her stomach sink. Katooni was part of the reason she was standing there. The youngling, Petro and some other Jedi initiates had risked their own lives to infiltrate the base of Hondo Ohnaka, saving her after she'd been captured by the pirate when a training mission to Ilum went horribly wrong.

“We thought you left!” Petro continued for his friend excitedly. He threw a glare at Barriss over his shoulder. “Ha, I told you it was only a matter of time before you got caught.”

Katooni smirked, and then high fived him. “Now you’ll have to go back to  _jail_.” Her nasal voice was filled with triumph.

Barriss let out a tiny chuckle. “Actually,” she said, summoning a blaster from somewhere across the room, “I will be doing no such thing. Say goodbye, children.”

“Wha—” Katooni did not get to finish. And she never would, as right then a narrow, bright red blaster bolt entered through her back and exited out her heart. She choked, eyes widening in shock as she clutched at her chest and then fell to the ground, limp.

Ahsoka could only  _stare_  as Barriss bent over and removed the lightsaber hilt on Katooni’s belt. She was  _shaking_. She wanted to  _scream_. But there was no time for that. “Petro, where are you?”

Petro didn’t answer, tearing his gaze from Katooni’s body and activating his blue lightsaber. He pointed it at Barriss. “I can’t believe you did that.” His eyes narrowed. “What did Katooni ever do to  _you_?”

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” Barriss replied flatly, dropping the blaster with a  _thunk_  and activating Katooni’s lightsaber. Petro swung at her, but she ducked sideways, moving out of his reach before Force pushing him to the ground. He started to call his lightsaber—which had rolled away—back to his hand with the Force, but Barriss beat him to it.

He swallowed as Barriss turned the weapon on. Now, she wielded two lightsabers. “Level 1313,” he said quietly, looking toward the holodisc. “On Coru—” his words twisted into a cry of pain as Barriss stabbed him in the chest with his own lightsaber.

“ _No._ ” Ahsoka couldn’t stop the word from being torn from her mouth as he died. She had seen, lost and done a lot in the course of the Clone War. But this… somehow, this was different. And not simply because children had been killed, their lives ripped away from them by a psychopath. It was different because it had been completely, absolutely and  _painfully_  unfair. Because, so far, Barriss picked on people her own size. This was a new low.

Now, she was murdering younglings—all in the name of bringing down the Jedi Order.

_I guess that’s the best way_ , Ahsoka thought numbly,  _start with the next generation._

“Are we done here?” Barriss’ face took on a bored expression, but then perked up when she seemed to remember something. “You can thank my old master for that fact I am such a good duelist. And yes, I know she’s there.” She snorted. “And I also know she’s too much of a coward to face me. Good day.”

The hologram dissolved into the air.

“Ahsoka, Anakin.” Obi-Wan quickly got to his feet, spreading his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I’m going to have to ask you to hold your opinions until we’ve returned to the Temple.  _Please._  ”

“ _Why_ ,” Ahsoka asked steadily, her voice soft. As hard as today had been, as infuriating as the Council was, as angry as she felt—it was time she got over herself. She wasn’t going to get answers by throwing a tantrum. “Why didn’t you expel her, again? The death penalty would have prevented all of this.”

“A life, she is, Former Padawan Tano,” Yoda said cryptically.

“So were Katooni and Petro,” Ahsoka snapped back. She silently added,  _So am I._  

Luminara spoke up. “The Council recognized they made a mistake with you, Ahsoka. And though Barriss was clearly guilty and confessed, they didn’t want to chance her receiving the penalty of death without them knowing all the facts. So they pacified Admiral Tarkin by allowing him to put her in military prison instead.”

Ahsoka looked Luminara in the eye. “They kicked me out over an  _accusation_ —she confessed. They were willing to chance  _me_  getting a death sentence. Why couldn’t they make the right ‘mistake’?”

“Ahsoka, the Council is not perfect.” Luminara sighed. “Perhaps you and Barriss, in your youth, did not understand this. Although they act as one body, they are still beings, and prone to error.”

Anakin was purple with rage. “’Not perfect’?” he echoed sharply. “Where was that line of thinking when it came to Ahsoka— _not perfect_?” He let out a short bark of a laugh. “Or  _is_  that the line of thinking, because Ahsoka was  _my padawan_? It stands to reason an unorthodox Jedi should lose their life, even if the Council made a ‘mistake’. It would be no real loss. Bottom line, you don’t trust me and you didn’t trust the evidence against Barriss, because  _I_  was the source. And now after a terrorist attack, sedition and framing sprees this  _perfectly orthodox_   _mistake_  is still running around killing Jedi—in your face. Mistake that.”

Obi-Wan looked truly appalled. “How can you even say that, Anakin?”

“Because it’s true, Obi-Wan, and you know it.” Anakin glared.

“Perhaps if broken out of prison, Former Padawan Tano had not, discovered Padawan Offee’s deception sooner, we could have.” Yoda studied the Ahsoka. “Pity yourself, do you Former Padawan Tano?”

“With all due respect, Master Yoda…” Obi-Wan said carefully, “…if Ahsoka did not escape from prison, she would be dead and Barriss would still be walking the halls of the Temple, plotting galactic domination or some such nonsense. That was a necessary…  _evil_ , for lack of a better word; no matter how you examine the situation.” He frowned. “And to be fair, Ahsoka had much to pity herself over before all of this happened, and she did not. I doubt she’d start now.”

_Beep._

Yoda nodded slowly. “The truth, you speak, Master Kenobi.”

_Beep._

“Oh.” Anakin threw up his hands, spitting mad. “So, it’s the truth when  _he_  says it.”

_Beep._

“Skywalker, how many times must I remind you to calm yourself?” From Mace’s expression, you would think the number was anywhere upwards of a million.

_Beep._

Anakin grit his teeth. “I am  _perfectly_  calm.”

_Beep._

“I will believe that as long as you don’t start using your best Form V moves on holograms again,” Obi-Wan muttered dryly.

_Beep._

Ahsoka wanted to jump back in, but some annoying sound was working its way into her head. Everyone continued talking and arguing around her, but it kept grabbing her attention. Slowly, she glanced around the Chancellor’s huge office, looking for the source of the sound.

_There, on his desk._

Her eyes fell on the holodisc, which was on but in idle mode. Why was it beeping? It beeped when a transmission was being received, but this was a distinctive, odd sound. Slowly, she began to back away. No one paid her any mind, but she didn’t care. She did some quick thinking—if she threw the holodisc out of the panoramic window that made up the wall behind Palpatine’s desk, and it did what she was sure it was going to do, a lot of people would get hurt.

The doors to the Chancellor’s office were the blast proof kind, though. If she could get everyone out…

Anakin glanced at her when she mentally yanked on the bond to get his attention.  _Are you okay? Is—_

“Run!” she yelled. She turned around, caught Anakin’s hand and half pulled but mostly dragged him towards the door. Obi-Wan, Mace, Yoda and Luminara traded confused looks, but were on their heels in an instant. Palpatine quickly left his chair and followed the group, his dark red robes billowing nervously behind him.

Ahsoka slammed a finger on the button that would open the door. It jammed. “Don’t do this to me…”

“Former Padawan Tano—” Mace eyed her as if she were insane as she hit the button again.

_Whoosh._

The doors opened… just as the holodisc—no,  _bomb_  went off.

* * *

 

Anakin yelped as the force of the blast threw him out of the doorway to Palpatine’s office and into the entry hallway. He slammed headfirst into the base of one of the long benches that lined the room, dazed from the confusion of what just happened and the stench of smoke. But even in his daze, his mind managed to conjure one coherent thought.

  _Ahsoka._

She had saved his and everyone else’s rear ends, no doubt about it. But what had happened to her?

Anakin forced his eyes to focus and struggled to his feet, stomping out a couple of scattered, small fires on the carpet in the process. He glanced down at his left forearm. There was a nasty, numb burn on it, but nothing a bacta patch or two couldn’t fix.

He scanned the room again. Yoda, Windu and the Chancellor were already on their feet, trying to clear a path through the debris to the door, while Obi-Wan was helping Luminara up. But where was Ahsoka?

_There._

She’d been flung into a far corner by the blast from the explosion. A holobookshelf had come down on top on her, and the only hint that she was even under it was the fact her arm stretched out from under the heavy frame. Anakin sped across the room and quickly used the Force to levitate the shelf off of her, tossing it away before falling to his knees beside her. She was unconscious and looked mostly unharmed, just a bit bruised and burned.

He checked her pulse—it was faint, but steady. “…Ahsoka?”  _Come on._  “Ahsoka, wake up.” No answer. Anakin felt a twisted, stone cold knot of desperation settle in his stomach. Yes, Ahsoka was breathing.  _Yes_ , he had found a pulse. But in this moment, either of those meant nothing to him.

He took her hand in his and squeezed before letting it drop. Then, he had an idea.

_Skywalker, that’s low. Just to wake her up?_

_I need to tell her anyways… and if it wakes her up, well, all according to the plan._

“Snips,” he said quietly, “I  _am_  proud of you. I never wanted an apprentice, but I had to make an exception for you. I will  _always_  make an exception for you. But I can’t do that if you don’t wake up.”

Ahsoka’s eyes snapped open. “Ow,” she moaned, slowly sitting up and placing a hand on her head. “…what happened?”

Anakin was sure she hadn’t consciously heard a word of what he’d said, but he didn’t care. “Not much.” He grinned, getting to his feet before reaching down and offering her a hand. “The Chancellor’s office blew up; I pulled you out of a coma or something. You’re welcome.”

Ahsoka shot him a look and let him pull her to her feet. “I’m serious.” A shadow crossed her face. “First Katooni and Petro, and now this… I can’t believe Barriss just thinks she can get away with it all.”

Anakin started to say  _no_ , the Mirialan wouldn’t, but then a squadron composed partly of Red Guards and mostly Senate Commandos rushed into the destroyed room in a blur of red and blue, weapons raised.

“Captain Taggart, at your service. What’s the situation?” A commando made his way over to Yoda while the Red Guards immediately moved over to Palpatine.

Yoda paused, and then glanced from across the room at Ahsoka. “Not quite, sure, I am. But know what happened, I believe Former Padawan Tano does.”

“My office was blown up, obviously, Captain,” Palpatine said, grimacing. “But I would like to know just  _what_  blew it up.” He turned his attention to Ahsoka. “Was the holodisc Padawan Offee so…  _kindly_  gave us the bomb?”

“I’m sure of it,” Ahsoka said firmly. Palpatine nodded, seemingly satisfied with this answer.

But Anakin could sense Taggart was more than a little skeptical. “How do you know it wasn’t just a coincidence, Miss…?”

“—Tano,” Mace supplied. He nodded his head in agreement. “Captain Taggart is right; the two events could be completely separate.”

Anakin inwardly frowned. The Jedi Master was stubbornly refusing to back Ahsoka up on anything, even when the evidence was practically slapping him upside his shiny, bald head with his own hand and asking him why he was hitting himself. “I think we were just all so deep in discussion that we didn’t pay much attention to anything else. Even if it  _was_  coincidental, Ahsoka saved our lives.”

Ahsoka sent him a thankful smile before directing her attention at Mace and Taggart. “I’m sure this place will be crawling with forensics droids soon, so tell them to check two things: the security footage and blast radius.”

“And  _I’m_  sure the sound works,” Anakin said lightly, “you should have no trouble proving she’s telling the truth this time.” He couldn’t help but smirk over his shoulder at the Council as he turned to go, gesturing for Ahsoka to follow.

“…just where are you two going?” Obi-Wan recovered his ability to speak as the duo reached the door.

“Temple med bay,” Anakin replied, pointing at his injured arm. “You all might want to head there too.”

Mace narrowed his eyes, and Anakin could almost see the insolence radar in his brain go off. “What makes you think so, Skywalker?”

“They should have something for  _perfectly burned egos_  .” Anakin grinned as the doors shut behind him and Ahsoka. He hadn’t  _quite_  told the Council the whole truth, because he didn’t have plans to simply stay in the medical bay. It was merely a pit stop.

His true destination was the Underworld.


	7. Promises

When Ahsoka and Anakin got back to the Temple hangar, Mace Windu was waiting for them.

“ _Master Windu_?” Anakin squinted, his face twisted in absolute confusion. “Did someone finally come up with Force teleport while I was out in the field?”

Ahsoka held back a laugh. Either that or Windu had done some highly illegal driving to beat them here.

Windu glared at both of them. “Even if that was so, Skywalker, no one would allow you to learn such a technique,” he said, sternly. “I am here to inform you the Council has ordered you Temple bound.”

 “You can’t do that,” Ahsoka protested, before Anakin could voice the string of foul words and phrases—most probably referring to Yoda and Windu’s mothers—she knew was running through his head. “At least, not to me, you can’t.” She couldn’t keep a smirk off her face.

Windu raised an eyebrow. “The order doesn’t apply to you, for obvious reasons.” He sounded almost disappointed. “But that doesn’t mean it won’t keep you here.”

Ahsoka opened and then closed her mouth. He was right.

Anakin snapped out of the enraged silence he’d fallen into. He’d managed not to go purple this time around. “What’s the reason for the order?” His eyes were already narrowed in contempt at the answer to his question.

“The Council is aware you have plans to pursue Barriss Offee, and has decided you are too close to the matter,” Windu informed him. “That, subsequently, will cloud your judgment and impede justice. Every being deserves a fair trial.”

_Is he serious?_

Ahsoka was sorely tempted to Force push Windu across the room and strangle him, but instead she closed her eyes and reached out into the Force, trying to find a sense of calm. That only made things worse—the Force was clouded and dark and not the comforting presence she’d always known it to be. And as she realized this, her mouth seemed to form words of its own accord. “’Every being’?” she asked quietly, taking a step closer to Windu. “You seem to define ‘every’ differently than I do, Master.”

Windu merely glanced at her. “ _Your_  definition seems to be clouded by your emotions, Former Padawan Tano.”

 After a long moment, where Ahsoka and Mace just stared each other down, the former Jedi felt Anakin’s mechno hand settle onto her shoulder. The bond, despite the fact it was paper thin and near non-existent, rang with understanding. 

 Windu looked a bit smug as she took a step back, and she didn’t care to tell him that Anakin’s gesture wasn’t to reel her in, but to remind her there were battles actually worth fighting.

And that Mace Windu was, nine times out of ten, not one of them.

“There is, of course, a way to override the order,” Windu said as they turned to go. “Promise that if you go out and look for Offee, and capture her, she won’t be returning to the Temple in a body bag.”

Anakin and Ahsoka stopped, traded a look, and then glanced over their shoulders at Windu. “Sorry,” the Jedi Knight intoned flatly. He didn’t sound very apologetic at all. “But I try not to make promises I can’t keep. Good rid—good  _day_ , Master Windu.”

The duo left the hangar, an unsaid  _this isn’t over_  in their wake.

* * *

 

Anakin barreled furiously out of the lift into the Halls of Healing before slowing down, letting Ahsoka take the lead. He didn’t, in that moment, remember the way to her room.

Neither of them said a word, but various healers and even a few patients seemed to do a double take at the anger radiating off the both of them. Anakin ignored the stares and glared, stomping through the puddles of sunlight that dappled the hallway Ahsoka led him into and pretending that they were Mace Windu’s face.

_This means war._

Ahsoka found her door and pressed a button on the small control pad beside it. The rectangle of durasteel slid back into the wall, and she entered through the doorway. Anakin followed and made a beeline for the chair by the window, sitting down. Once he got comfortable, he glanced up at his former apprentice. She sat at the bottom of the bed—on the side that wasn’t pushed up against the wall—legs pulled almost to her chest and staring out the window at the cityscape of Coruscant with unseeing eyes.

He had never seen someone so young look so tired.

There was a knock, and Ahsoka’s gaze shifted from the window to the door. She frowned irritably. “Not—not now.”

“Former Padawan Tano, it’s Vokara Che, the Chief Healer,” a clipped, feminine voice with a sharp Twi’lek accent replied after a few moments. “May I come in?”

Ahsoka hesitated. “Fine,” she conceded flatly.

The door opened, and a tall, middle-aged Rutian Twi’lek entered. Her cool blue eyes quickly took in Anakin and Ahsoka, her forehead creasing into a frown as she noticed their injuries. “The Council has informed me you two were caught in an explosion.” She paused. “What is the meaning of this, Skywalker?”

Anakin frowned right back. He’d had a few run-ins with Vokara Che over the course of the Clone War, especially around the beginning—he’d been kicked out of the Halls of Healing on multiple occasions for ‘disrupting the peace’, as the Jedi Master so kindly liked to phrase it. “Nice to see you too, Master Che,” he said testily, sarcasm edging his tone. “And this isn’t  _my_  fault—blame Barriss Offee.”

 “Oh, I do.” Vokara nodded, tightly clasping her hands behind her back. “But as you know, I  _also_  do not react kindly when the healing of my patients is impeded. If Ahsoka had not been allowed to leave with you this morning—I honestly don’t know what that Healer was thinking—we might not be here right now.”

Ahsoka studied the other humanoid, wariness evident in her expression. “…what does that have to do with anything, Master Che?”

_I’m starting to wonder the exact same thing…_

“You’re still recovering from that blaster wound, Ahsoka.” Vokara’s voice sounded almost, but not quite, gentle. “I believe it would be best if, until further notice, you were required to stay in the Temple until you’re fully healed.”

“And by that, Master, you  _mean_  until further notice from the Council.” Ahsoka looked Vokara in the eye.

“If that’s what you want to think,” Vokara said, her voice still almost gentle but now slightly dismissive. She turned to go. “I’ll be sending a medical droid for you both. Good day.”

She left, and Anakin and Ahsoka were alone again.

“Just exactly  _who_  does the Council think they are?” Anakin spat, springing to his feet and beginning to pace the room. “They can’t  _do_  this. They can keep me here, but not you. This—”

Ahsoka cut him off. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re staying here anyway.”

Anakin froze mid-pace. “Ahsoka…” he trailed off. “If one of us is going to sneak out of here, I don’t think—” he stopped. It would snow on Tatooine before Ahsoka would let him leave her behind, that much was certain. Hesitantly, he backtracked. “…security’s stronger at night.”

Ahsoka paused, and then grinned. “Right,” she agreed. “But there’s no way we’re getting out of here in broad daylight. And I wouldn’t put it past Master Windu to guard the doors himself.”

“I wouldn’t put a lot past Windu,” Anakin muttered, starting to pace again. “I can’t believe they’re defending Barriss so hard— _this_  is what’s going to make them look like they’ve got ill will against the Republic. That we’re all like Barriss.” He was tempted to say when word of the Council’s playing of Devil’s advocate got out, the Order would be in several star systems of trouble; but then he thought of that Mirialan couple. The galaxy was a big place—they weren’t the only ones who thought like that. Only time would tell who the public would side with.

He glanced up at Ahsoka, who was staring off into the distance again. Her eyes weren’t unseeing anymore, though, and she was clearly deep in thought. But  _he_  couldn’t help but think how much like a little kid she looked.

It was hard not to see her as the snippy new padawan who’d all but skipped into his world.

Ahsoka’s eyes flicked to him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, suspiciously. “I know that look. It’s your sentimental look.”

“…there’s a look?”

“You can’t miss it.”

Anakin snorted. He had never been able to figure out how Ahsoka read him so easily. “I just…” he paused, searching for the right words. He decided to go the simple route. “Are you okay, Ahsoka?”

Ahsoka broke eye contact and looked away, saying nothing for the longest time. “I don’t know,” she said finally, with a sigh. “I’ve been asking myself that for a while now.”

_Since she left the Order—or even before then?_  Anakin thought  _._  Aloud, he said, “It’ll get better.” He crossed over to the bed and sat down next to her. “I promise.”

Ahsoka didn’t reply, and Anakin didn’t blame her. He remembered all too well the last time he had promised her something:  _I’ll never let anyone hurt you, Ahsoka—never_. A part of him knew he couldn’t have foreseen or changed every horrible thing that happened next, but a bigger part insisted he should have tried harder to protect his former padawan.

_Barriss’ll be lucky if there’s anything_  left  _of her to put in a body bag after I find her._

He had told Windu he didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. Now, he had to try harder than ever to make that the undisputed truth.

* * *

 

_Beeeep._

Ahsoka slowly blinked opened her eyes as the shrill shriek of an alarm cut through the air. With a groan, she sat up and reached in the general direction of the nightstand, finally managing to find the button that would silence the chronometer’s alarm. She glanced at the time, which cast a soft blue glow and was the only light in the room. It was midnight.

This spurred her into action—she didn’t have much time. Kicking off the blanket and springing out of bed, she sensed her way through the dark with the Force over to her bag and pulling out what she hoped was an okay outfit. Changing out of her pajamas and into it, she pulled on her boots and ducked into the bathroom.

She went over her and Anakin’s plan in her head for what felt like the thousandth time as she brushed her teeth—it’d been the last thing on her mind as she’d drifted off to sleep and the first thing on it when she awakened, after all.

Risky didn’t  _begin_  to define it, even compared to many of the insane plans she’d seen Anakin come up with over the course of the Clone War.

_But it would win in the reckless category,_  she thought as she left her room and started down the hallway, which was gently illuminated by lamps at intervals on the wall. The Temple med bay was open twenty-four hours a day, but she didn’t pass anyone or anything and made it to the atrium without incident.

_Ding._

Her breath caught as the doors to a lift on the left opened, and she turned to speed back the way she came.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin hissed in a stage whisper, sticking his head out of the turbolift and glancing around. His eyes landed on Ahsoka as she turned back to face him, and he sighed in relief. “Good, you’re up—right on schedule.”

Ahsoka raised an eyemarking as she joined Anakin inside the lift. He had never been one with much regard for schedules, much to everyone’s chagrin. “I hope this works.”

“Oh, it will,” Anakin said firmly, running a hand through his hair, which was three brushstrokes away from being bedhead but really still very messy, as if he made those strokes without looking in the mirror—swipes in the dark. He selected HANGARS on the lift’s control panel, and it started downwards with a jolt.

The duo rode in silence, though Anakin kept flipping up and then pulling down the hood on his cloak and Ahsoka found herself suddenly very interested in her nails.

After what felt like hours, the lift came to a stop and the doors slid apart. Anakin stepped out first, stretching out an arm to keep Ahsoka from walking forward, and then scoping out the entrance to the hangar. There were no guards in sight, so he gestured for her to follow, keeping close to the wall and in the shadows.

Ahsoka willed her heart not to pound so hard, certain the entire Temple would be able to hear it if it didn’t slow down.

Anakin glanced at her. “Nervous?” he asked in a whisper, smirking slightly.

She snorted, quietly. “You wish—”

“Halt.”

Ahsoka watched Anakin stiffen at the same time she did, and both whirled around to face a coldly glaring Mace Windu. He was accompanied by two Jedi Guards, their faces hidden by masks and their hands gripping the hilts of their ornate lightpikes.

“Master Windu,” Anakin began, carefully. “There is a  _perfectly_  good explanation for—”

“Cut the phobium, Skywalker.” Mace’s features seemed to be set in his infamous glare, and he took a step closer to the pair. “I know you and Former Padawan Tano were conspiring to sneak out of the Temple.” His eyes narrowed. “And I’m sure—despite your long and complex history of disobeying the Council—she put you up to it.”

 “ _Kriff_ ,” Anakin swore under his breath, and Ahsoka hoped only she heard. “You assume too much, Master Windu,” he said, louder this time. He studied the older man, and then nudged the bond with his mind.  _I was going to let you borrow this later, Snips, but… well, later came early. Catch._

Without another word, he produced a lightsaber from beneath his cloak and tossed it to Ahsoka. Half out of habit and half out of surprise, her hand shot out and caught it. Once she got a good look at the glittering metal cylinder, which was cold against and slightly too big for her hand, her heart sank. This hilt was all too familiar to her—she’d only seen it a thousand times while sparring and even more when it had been raised to deflect blaster bolts and protect innocents.

She felt a bitter taste settle against her tongue as she truly realized what she was looking at.

This was Barriss Offee’s lightsaber.


	8. I'm Sorry

Anakin knew he'd messed up when Ahsoka's eyes darted to him, cold and accusing. They narrowed as a word flew across the bond.

_No._

Anakin's mind raced to figure out just where he'd gone wrong—he had picked up Barriss' lightsaber when confronting the girl during his former apprentice's trial, using it and his own to duel her before eventually dropping it sometime during the fight. After he'd overpowered Barriss and the Jedi Guard arrested her, he found and kept the weapon almost as an afterthought, merely surprised it hadn't gotten destroyed.

Whatever his opinion of Barriss, it would be point-blank stupidity to throw away a perfectly good lightsaber. Aside from hurling it at his wall, over and over again as he had during the first several hours after Ahsoka left the Order, of course. That didn't count.

_I should have just stolen one from the Sparring room._

Ahsoka yanked her still outstretched hand out of the light and back into the shadows at her side. "Oh, Master Windu," she said, expression and tone teeming with such sudden relief Anakin almost choked. "We're  _so_  glad you're here. Do you have your cloak?"

Windu's eyes moved with suspicion between them both. "No," the Jedi Master said finally, arching an eyebrow. "I in fact do not."

Ahsoka sighed, as if she'd been expecting that answer. "That's fine," she said with a wave of her hand. Her voice then turned serious. "But we need your help. This…" She paused. "This is hard to admit, but you were right earlier, in the hangar."

"…please explain, Former Padawan Tano." Mace looked wary, but interested.

"Every being  _does_  deserve a fair trial, I mean," Ahsoka said. "Even Barriss, despite everything she's done. We want to catch her, so she can be brought to justice. But we can't do it alone."

Windu blinked. Once, twice, three times. "Former Padawan Tano, I am…  _overjoyed_  that you and Skywalker have seen the error of your ways. But this must be run by the entirety of the Council—"

Ahsoka reached out and caught Mace's hand with her own, eyes wide. " _Please_ , Master Windu."

Mace just  _stared_ , as if he could not compute what was going on. And then, something amazing and rare happened: he smiled. "Well," he began, thoughtfully. "If you…  _truly_  require my assistance, I suppose it would be cruel to withhold it."

Anakin was ready to fall on his lightsaber, right then and there. This was too much to handle.

"Thank you." Ahsoka beamed and released Windu's hand. Even in the dark, Anakin could see her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "You won't regret it—I promise." She paused, and then gestured to one of the Jedi Guards still flanking Windu on either side. "Are they coming with us?"

Windu blinked again and shook his head, almost groggily. "No," he said, turning to the guards. "Return to your posts."

The two guards' eyes were wide behind their masks, but they didn't dare object. They nodded quickly and left, their footsteps practically ringing with hesitance.

Windu watched them go. "Come with me," he ordered, moving quickly past Anakin and Ahsoka and into the hangar. The two followed, though they made no effort to match pace with the Jedi Master.

_Ahsoka_ , Anakin wheezed through the bond, horrified.   _What just happened? Where the_ Chaos _did you learn how to—_

Ahsoka cut him off with the mental equivalent of a snort.  _If you had your way, we'd be fighting off one of the most skilled duelists in the Order and two Jedi Guards right now. No offense, but that scenario should be on a list called Top Ten Worst Ways to Die._

Anakin shot her a look.  _Fine, but I don't see how having Windu along is much better. We'll go insane before the first red light._

_Everyone needs to be needed_ , Ahsoka pointed out.   _And you know what they say… keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. I don't like this any more than you do, but better to bring him along than have him make a stink in the morning._

Anakin sighed, and then glanced up to see Windu standing by the closest of the speeders that lined the left wall, eyebrows raised.

The Jedi Master opened the door to the back row and slid inside. "I'm going to assume you two aren't  _completely_ reckless and have a destination in mind. You drive, Skywalker."

Anakin made a face and stomped around to the driver's seat, jumping inside without even bothering to open the door. He waited for Ahsoka to get in on the passenger side, pretending not to notice when she opened the glove compartment and all but shoved Barriss' lightsaber inside of it with a glare.

No one said anything till they were out of the Temple and well into Coruscant's glittering traffic, which busy even at little over half past midnight.

_Well, some don't call it the Planet That Never Sleeps for no reason_ , Anakin thought, turning a corner and subtly glaring at Windu using the airspeeder's rearview mirror. He didn't like the older Jedi, and had never really forgiven him for everything he'd done—from not standing by Ahsoka, to getting both her and Anakin Temple bound and being generally infuriating in a whole new way.

Anakin just hoped he wouldn't regret bringing him along.

"You know," Windu said, breaking into his thoughts. "Perhaps I shouldn't have been so quick to throw Kenobi on missions with you two in the past."

Anakin  _wished_  he'd had the sense to get ahold of Obi-Wan and rolled his eyes, trading a look with Ahsoka.

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, turning his attention back to the lane and the mission at hand. Although he'd gotten a couple hours of sleep, he'd spent the end of the previous day in the Jedi Archives conferring with Tera Sinube, the Jedi Order's first and foremost expert on the Underworld. He'd been hesitant to ask the wizened, aged Cosian for help—Sinube  _was_   an old friend of Yoda—but after hitting several dead ends with his own research and it still being too early for Ahsoka to sneak out of the med center without getting caught, he'd had no other choice.

It turned out Tera was rather good natured, and though he guessed Anakin was going against the Council he decided to help the Knight anyway. It had only taken about an hour for Anakin to finally get the results he'd been seeking.

He and Ahsoka had a meeting at one o'clock sharp with Asajj Ventress, though Tera said he'd set it up under different names and the guise of wanting to make use of the former Separatists bounty hunting talents.

_I don't doubt Master Sinube's abilities_ , Anakin thought, piloting the speeder closer to the portal that allowed speeders entrance to the Underworld.  _But Ventress isn't stupid. I hope this works._

Despite his doubts, he couldn't help the smirk that pulled at his mouth. Because no matter how much Ventress hated him and the Jedi Order, he was sure she'd do anything to get her lightsabers back.

After all, Barriss' weapon wasn't the only one that had been dropped during his duel with her. And it would be point-blank stupidity to throw away a perfectly good lightsaber… much less three.

* * *

 

When they got to their destination—a boarded up, abandoned cantina on Level 1314 that sagged with dilapidation and was more depressing than most sessions of the Galactic Senate—Ventress was nowhere to be found.

Ahsoka bit down on her tongue to keep from groaning and glanced at Anakin, whose face was all sharp shadows in the dim streetlight that leaked into the room through the window he'd kicked in to gain them entrance.

"I can't believe this," he snapped, beginning to pace back and forth on the grimy floor. "I  _knew_  she wasn't going to be stupid enough to fall for this."

Mace frowned. "I don't know who you're talking about, Skywalker, but we've been here all of five minutes. Patience is one of a Jedi’s best weapons."

Anakin spun on his heel and glared at Mace, and Ahsoka could tell he  _patiently_  wanted to give the man a slow, painful death.

Just as he opened his mouth, another window burst inward, shards of glass flying through the air and missing him, Ahsoka and Mace by inches.

_Maybe this wasn't a waste of time after all_.

Ahsoka took a step forward, reluctantly tightening her lax grip on the hilt of Barriss' lightsaber. Though she'd hate every minute of it, she'd use the weapon if she had to. "Who's there?"

Asajj Ventress gracefully dropped into the room through the window frame, looking disgusted. "…I should have guessed."

"We need your help," Ahsoka said quickly, deciding it would be best to skip any small talk. "Do you have any info on Barriss Offee?"

"Not as far as you're concerned,” Ventress said flatly. “Because the last time I made a   _deal_  with you, Tano, I seem to recall you went back on your end."

" _What?_  I don't—" Ahsoka stopped, and stared at Ventress. And stared and stared and stared, not out of shock toward the other woman, but herself. How had she forgotten her promise to the assassin?  _"If you help me, I'll speak to the Council and the Senate on your behalf. I'll get you a full pardon for your crimes.”_  Ventress was even the one who tipped Anakin off about Barriss, who even thought to  _suspect_  Barriss of being the true Temple bomber.

Because after being cleared, released from that military base and getting back to the Temple, the Council hadn’t immediately summoned her and Anakin before them. An hour had gone by, and she’d spent that thinking. Thinking while she showered, thinking while she lay on her bed and stared holes into the ceiling till she made the choice to walk away from it all. Thinking as she joined Anakin in a lift and carefully, subtlety blocked her thoughts and emotions from going across the bond and letting him know she was about to destroy everything Skyguy and Snips had ever been and ever would be.

“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka said finally, and meant it. “I shouldn’t have gone back on my word, Ventress, especially after everything you did to help me out. But I swear it wasn’t intentional.” Slowly, she exhaled. “I don’t know what would convince you to give it, but we need your help. Barriss escaped from prison yesterday afternoon, and she’s kidnapped and killed two youngli—”

“What makes you think I know anything about that? I’m not exactly one for getting involved in Jedi politics.” Ventress raised an eyebrow, looking entirely unimpressed as she crossed her pale arms.

Irritation stabbed through Ahsoka.  _Give me her lightsabers,_  she said through the bond, taking a step back towards Anakin and holding her free hand out for the weapons.

She could feel him staring at her, even in the near dark.  _Ahsoka, are you sure? She’ll only—_

_Yes._

_I hope this works…_  Anakin sent her a mental sigh, and then a moment later two cold, curved metal cylinders rested in her palm.

“Where did you get those?” Ventress demanded angrily as Ahsoka lifted them into view, taking several long strides closer to the girl and proceeding to stare her down. “Give them to me— _now._ ”

“ _No_.” Ahsoka curled her fingers tighter around the hilts, part of her calculating just how low she’d have to duck if Ventress got it into her head to throw a punch. “Not unless you tell us what we want to know.”

Ventress tried to snatch the lightsabers, growling when Ahsoka calmly pulled them out of reach. “Fine,” she hissed after a few more minutes of glaring. She stuck her hand into her pocket and pulled out a pen and small piece of flimsiplast, scrawling out what looked like an address in surprisingly neat Aurebesh onto it. "There's an abandoned warehouse on 1313. It was a huge black market hotspot—till today, that is. No one got a straight look at Offee, but… well. Let's just say everyone's been giving that place a wide berth."

"That explains where she'd get an explosive holodisc. Those are highly illegal—I’d never even seen one in person till today,” Mace said. “But we have no way of knowing if she’s already moved on. If we go there, we might just be wasting our time.”

“But I doubt she would—if whoever was there before her skipped town without their goods, then she has plenty of resources to make use of.” Anakin shrugged, and then added, “Which also means that by paying that place a visit, we risk her being about a hundred steps ahead and finding a pile of motion triggered bombs ready to blow us sky high.”

“What’s the difference?” Ahsoka asked in a mutter. “Explosions practically  _are_  Barriss.”

Anakin snorted and glanced down at his left forearm, which was bandaged under the sleeve of his tunic. “True—”

“If you three are done,” Ventress snapped, interrupting him, “I’m going to leave now. Give me my lightsabers.”

Ahsoka hesitated. She hated to go back on her word and the last thing she needed was another enemy, but… she didn’t want to be the cause, however indirectly, of yet another chain of destruction. Still, she owed Ventress her life. “Only if you promise not to hurt anyone you don’t have to.”

Ventress rolled her eyes and lifted the piece of flimsiplast with the address on it into the air. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I don’t care what you dream of. Just don’t  _do_  it,” Ahsoka warned, slapping the two weapons into the woman’s free hand and taking the piece of flimsiplast, which she handed to Anakin. “No one wants to have to chase  _you_  around the Underworld.”

“Ha.  _Funny_.” Ventress pivoted on her heel toward the door. “No one could catch me if they tried. Nice working with you, kid,” she said, grinning as she holstered both of her lightsabers.

* * *

 

When the warehouse loomed into view, Anakin let out a low whistle—it  _was_  huge, and at four or even five stories tall the structure towered above most of the nearby buildings. As he turned the corner, he noticed there wasn’t anything behind the back besides what looked like a deep, long drop—nothing from which even  _he_  would dare jump.

Anakin slammed his foot on the brakes about half a block from their destination, the speeder jerking to a stop and causing everyone to lurch forward. “That warehouse is in pretty bad shape," he noted, turning off the engines and then opening his door. “We’ll have to be careful in there.”

Mace glanced at him, eyebrows raised as if he was surprised Anakin even uttered the word  _careful_. Anakin rolled his eyes.

_I’m not_  that  _reckless._

The trio got out of the speeder and covered the rest of the block in less than a minute before quietly circling around to the side of the warehouse, where Mace used the Force to pry off the boards nailed tightly over the closest window, which was glassless.

Anakin held up a finger for silence and listened for any hint that anyone had heard this. Nothing reached his ears, so he nodded and jumped up, grabbing onto the edge of the window and climbing inside the warehouse. He fell to the floor, landing in a crouch, and in the few seconds it took for his eyes to adjust to the dark Ahsoka and Mace followed.

“This is too easy,” Ahsoka said, voice so quiet the Knight had trouble distinguishing her words from her breathing. “Honestly, I was expecting—”

A voice cut through the dark. “Expecting  _what_ , Ahsoka—a fanfare?” The lights flipped on, blinding the trio and revealing Barriss Offee, who stood by the railing of a balcony about two levels up. “You and Skywalker  _never_  were the subtle type, but really?”

“Subtle?” Ahsoka asked in a low snarl, not missing a beat. “Do you classify  _subtle_  as murdering innocent younglings on a live holo transmission just to prove a point?”

“No,” Barriss said flatly, twirling a lock of the wavy brown hair that came to the middle of her neck—longer than she’d ever let it grow before. “That was not intended to be subtle, and you’re all frankly quite stupid if you think so.” She paused. “Well, you’re stupid anyway, but details.”

“We’re smart enough to be able to track you down.” Ahsoka’s eyes narrowed. “This doesn’t have to be hard, Barriss. Being evil is a choice—one I  _know_  you’re fully capable of making.”

“From my point of view, the Jedi are evil,” Barriss retorted. “And all the Council believes in is corruption and violence.”

Ahsoka let out a short, humorless laugh. “Believe me, I know,” she said quietly. “But you don’t answer violence with violence, Barriss. You don’t bring peace by blowing up hangars and framing someone who  _trusted you_  for it. And especially not by killing younglings in cold blood—”

“Said the former padawan so  _reckless_  and  _emotional_  to an absolute fault everyone but her attachment challenged master was convinced she was a monster,” Barriss interrupted with a sneer. “Peace is brought about by doing what must be done, Ahsoka—and impeded by people like  _you_ , people who refuse to just lie down and  _die_.”

Ahsoka gave her the tiniest, most  _dangerous_  of smiles and adjusted the strap on her burgundy tank top. “Have you ever considered that  _maybe_  it isn’t me, but you, who might be one of those people, Barriss?”

Barriss didn’t even blink, and she said in a low, careful voice, “I don’t want to fight you, Ahsoka.”

“Why?” Ahsoka tilted her head. Then, she took a running start towards a tall stack of crates and flipped up on top of them, so she was eye level with the other girl. “Is it because you know you might not succeed in beating the tar out of me this time, because I’m not alone, because I don’t think you’re someone else and can see you for who and what you are? Or…” Another smile pulled at her mouth. “Or is it because you’re just scared?”

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” Barriss’ olive hands, which had been braced against the railing, slowly drifted to her sides, near the lightsabers stolen from Katooni and Petro. “One I’m sure you won’t like if you lose.”

“This  _game_  ended a long time ago, right when you got thrown in jail,” Ahsoka shot back. “We’re into overtime. And you’ve made too many illegal moves for my liking.”

“Well, then. I might as well make another one.” Barriss grinned, and lifted a hand. The large, fluorescent lights affixed to the warehouse’s high ceiling suddenly exploded in flashes of light, sparks and glass raining down over the room as the warehouse was thrust into near darkness.

Ahsoka swore and dove backwards off her perch on the crates, the  _crunch_  of glass sounding under her boots when she landed back on the ground. She straightened, and then Barriss’ lightsaber hummed to life in a reverse grip in her hand.

Anakin activated his as well and Mace did the same.  _Well_  , the Knight muttered through the bond, eyes darting around as he tried to see past the glow of the weapons.  _You’ve done it now, Sni—duck!_

He was too late. The  _nanosecond_  it took for his warning to travel across the bond was all Barriss needed, and she slammed into Ahsoka and sent the teenager flying across the room.

Livid that this  _psychopath_  would  _dare_  lay a  _finger_  on  _his_  former padawan, Anakin swung his lightsaber in a wide arc through what he hoped was Barriss’ midsection just as he had practiced on her hologram, as the Mirialan activated Katooni and Petro’s lightsabers began to trade blows with Mace. But no such luck—she ducked away, and his sapphire blade singed cold air, but not a cold heart.

Ahsoka didn’t let herself simply fall, using the momentum Barriss had given her and transforming it into a flip. But it wasn’t enough, and she called Barriss’ lightsaber back to her hand and activated it, stabbing it into the duracrete that was the floor and leaving a narrow, deep trench in it as she slowed her body down. Its insides glowed red, faint amber in the darkness.

For a moment, the room was quiet aside from labored breathing and the low hiss of lightsabers. No one spoke. No one needed to.

After that moment, after ninety complete seconds went by, Barriss called time in, appearing out of thin air yet again. Her blades materialized along with her, and she slammed them down on Ahsoka’s, pushing, shoving,  _forcing_  the former Jedi closer and closer to the glass littered floor.

Suffocating, heart stopping,  _consuming_  panic swirled through Anakin’s body at the sight of this, and he rushed forward, lightsaber at the ready.

_I’m not going to lose her._

_Not again._

_Not for good._

Barriss’ eyes flicked from Ahsoka for a single instant, and she let Petro’s weapon drop to the ground. As the safety kicked in and it deactivated, she lifted her hand in Anakin’s general direction, and then swung her arm out.

Anakin’s body was shoved sideways by way of the Force like an unwanted toy and he slammed into a pile of crates, his mind dazed from the impact.

“Okay,” Ahsoka hissed, panting. “Now, I’m  _really_  mad _._ ” With a sudden burst of energy she forced Barriss up and back, the roles were reversed.  _Barriss_  was being pushed,  _Barriss_  was being shoved and  _Barriss_  was being forced toward glass on the ground.

Clearly aware of this, Barriss played dirty, lifting her leg up and slamming her knee with every ounce of force she could into Ahsoka’s chest—right where the former Jedi had gotten shot.

Ahsoka let out a sound that was half choke and half yelp as she was thrown back and hit the ground. Initially rolling in on herself, the Togruta pulled Barriss’ lightsaber back into her hand with the Force and tried to scramble to her feet. But even the high pain threshold of a Force sensitive person seemed to fail her, and she only made it to her knees before she doubled over, unable to lift her arm, a red stain—barely visible because of the garment’s color—blooming on her top.

The pain rolling in waves across the bond yanked Anakin out of his daze, and he stumbled to his feet when Barriss activated Katooni and Petro’s lightsabers again and prepared to finish the snippy girl who was his former student, his best friend, his  _sister_.

“ _No_.” He knocked the lightsabers out of Barriss’ hands with the Force and then used it again to slam her into the wall. “Not my former padawan. Not tonight.”

But, though she was slumped against the wall and Mace now had his deep purple lightsaber pointed at her head, Barriss was grinning like a fool.

_Click_.

Anakin looked down toward the ground, at the smoke popper that rolled to a stop in front of him, and then up at Barriss’ outstretched hand. As a smoky gas filled the room with a hiss and proceeded to block out even the little streetlight coming in through the windows, he felt a Force choke lift him into the air and begin to cut off of his air supply.

The gas only kicked him closer to unconsciousness as he clawed at his neck and hacked, desperate for air. Though he couldn’t even see Barriss choking him anymore, darkness still seemed to edge and then close his vision.

_I’m sorry, Snips_.

He pried his comlink off his right gauntlet and let the device drop to the floor, just as he passed out.


	9. Two Halves

When the gas cleared, Anakin and Barriss were nowhere in sight, and Ahsoka suddenly couldn’t remember how to breathe. All she knew was she had to get out of that warehouse.

The next few moments were faded and disjointed—pain shooting through her body as she forced herself to walk forward, the feeling of cool metal in her hand as she bent down with a wince and snatched up Anakin’s lightsaber and comlink, Mace yelling her name as she turned toward the door and barreled out of the room. She ignored him, wishing she had ears to plug, wishing she could shut out the galaxy.

 _Anakin’s gone_.

The thought made her trip, and she almost slammed right into a corner instead of turning it. Righting herself, she kept moving, letting the Force guide her, letting herself get lost in what felt like a never ending rhythm of  _right, left, left, right, right, left_  until she reached the unlocked front doors. She didn’t know whether she pushed or pulled, but one of them opened and then she was out, running the deserted half a block back to the airspeeder. When she reached the vehicle she didn’t bother trying to open the doors, jumping inside and collapsing against the middle seat of the second row.

_You should have just stayed at the Temple, Tano._

Ahsoka slammed her eyes shut, though half the streetlights were out. It was surprisingly quiet for the Underworld—all that reached her montrals was her own breathing. But closing her eyes wasn’t going to tune out anything, much less the voice in the back of her own mind.

 _Like that would have helped_ , she shot back  _. We had to face Barriss sometime. And we were_   _winning. You know as well as I do Barriss—_

_What you were was unprepared. You shouldn’t have gone along with Anakin’s plan—he’s reckless, and sadly he’s passed that trait on to you. You just wanted to catch Barriss, if not dole out some revenge._

_It’s… not about that._  Ahsoka wondered how true her words were.  _She’s already tried to kill the Chancellor and murdered Katooni and Petro, and the Council sure as Chaos isn’t trying to do anything about it_.

But was it her and Anakin’s job to clean up the Council’s mess? They buried themselves in all…  _this_  completely of their own free will, without Anakin’s knowing and when she was thousands of light years away. And now the Knight had been kidnapped… would it even matter he was the Chosen One? Destined to balance the Force? Or would they see him as another unorthodox Jedi—no real loss—and make a halfhearted attempt to track him down only because he happened to be a useful piece in the game they called the Clone War?

 _I’ll rescue him myself if I have to_. This felt as much of a mountain of a goal as earning Anakin’s trust had in the beginning, but not impossible. Not if she had anything to say about it.

Footfalls sounded, scattering her thoughts. "Former Padawan Tano, are you alright?" Mace asked as he neared the speeder. "Do you—"

"I’m fine." This was a lie, as the energy she had to escape the warehouse was more adrenaline and disbelief than anything else. She felt completely sapped.

There was a long silence, and then, as he got inside the airspeeder, Mace spoke. "As you know, Skywalker’s been kidnapped." He said this as if it was a sudden but inevitable event, clearing his throat before leaning over and dropping Barriss' lightsaber—which Ahsoka had dropped and fully intended to leave in the warehouse—into the glove compartment.

Ahsoka bit down on her tongue. Unlike her, Mace had been in a position to stop Barriss for once and for all. Instead he’d let the Mirialan get the upper hand all throughout the fight, and toward the end just stood there like a…  _bystander_. But, as much as she hated it, she needed his help. She was going to need a lot of help.

"Let's… just go back to the Temple." She paused, pulling her numb left arm into her lap and not bothering with her seatbelt. "Anakin isn't anywhere near here, at least not now. I can sense it."

Mace opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. For once, he took a hint, starting the airspeeder's engines and seeming to turn his attention fully to the road. But after they merged into the traffic that filled Coruscant's Underworld portal at all hours, she saw his dark eyes flick to her reflection in the rearview mirror.

They were filled with concern.

The ride was quiet and uneventful. And also slow, Ahsoka decided. She felt a pang in her chest and remembered Anakin wasn't sitting in the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly and leaning forward as he made screeching turns and got himself honked at every other minute.

When they finally pulled into the Temple's hangar, the first thing Ahsoka noticed was Obi-Wan and Yoda standing by the doors, looking grave. She suppressed a groan.

As he cut the ignition, Mace saw them too. "May the Force be with us," he murmured under his breath as he opened his door and got out. He waited for Ahsoka to hesitantly do the same, and then took off at a brisk pace across the hangar’s oil stained duracrete floor.

"Obi-Wan, Yoda," he acknowledged crisply, nodding when they reached the pair. "Good morning—"

"Where's Anakin?" Obi-Wan looked around the hangar. Though he appeared composed, Ahsoka knew him well enough to see past this and noted his eyes were filled with worry. "I felt it during my morning meditation over an hour ago—something's happened to him, has it not?" His gaze fell on Ahsoka, and his worry spread from his eyes to the rest of his bearded face. "You've been bleeding." It wasn't a question.

"Remain calm we must, Master Kenobi." Yoda said this serenely, though he too looked troubled. "Going on, what is?"

"Barriss has captured Anakin," Ahsoka answered evenly, though she had always hated giving reports about failed missions. "We tracked her down earlier this morning, and long story short, we fought her and lost."

Mace stared at her for a split second, almost as if surprised she didn't mention just how much that loss was his fault, but nodded. "We currently have no idea of Skywalker’s current whereabouts."

"Hmmn…" Yoda said slowly, tapping his gimer stick. "Clouded, the Force is around these events. A real threat, Padawan Offee seems to have become."

"You mean even more of a threat than she was when she bombed the Temple, killed younglings and blew up the Chancellor's office while he was in it." Ahsoka looked the tiny being right in the eye, and in that moment, it occurred to her how much she towered over him. "I hope the Council intends to take action, Master."

_For starters, you can expel 'Padawan Offee' from the Order._

"I was against allowing Barriss to remain a Jedi the first time the Council voted on it, as I am now." Obi-Wan said this firmly, and then glanced at Mace. "Has an all-points bulletin been issued on her?"

"No. But I plan to correct that as soon as possible." Mace paused.  "From what I've seen, Padawan Offee truly has fallen. We're going to need clone troopers and Underworld policeman actively searching for her—preferably with a shoot to kill directive."

Ahsoka quietly winced. As glad as she was that things were finally going to get done… this was what it was like on the other side? When you weren't prey, but predator? It hurt to think that once someone had decided, with just as much zeal and determination as Mace, to order troops to shoot to kill her. Anakin eventually intervened— _"Don't shoot to kill, I repeat, do not shoot to kill!"_  —but what if he hadn't?

What if the stun bolt that eventually led to her being captured—fired by Master Plo's commander, Wolffe— _wasn't_  a stun bolt? She knew for a fact it had hit her right in the heart.

Mace, still conferring with Obi-Wan, glanced at her. Her wince wasn't as quiet as she thought. "Are you okay, Former Padawan Tano…?"

"I… yes, I'm fine." Ahsoka could see the Jedi Master saw through her lie, but she didn't care. "I'm going to go to the med bay now." Quickly bowing, she muttered  _thanks for everything_  to Mace and left the hangar.

With a slightly pale hand, she hit the button that would summon a lift. Ridiculous… this was ridiculous… she was being ridiculous. S he couldn't let little things—  _phrases—_ get to her, especially not now, when so much was at stake. Unraveling was not an option.

"Former Padawan Tano," Mace said, his voice coming from somewhere behind her. He'd followed her. "I just wanted to tell you that… that we  _will_  be bringing Skywalker home."

So, this was his way of apologizing. Ahsoka almost let the first snippy thing that came to mind roll off her tongue, but she caught the words just in time. Mace was trying to be reassuring, in his own way. "I know," she replied quietly, not turning around. She didn't care to add that the real question wasn't whether or not they'd be bringing Anakin home—it was whether it would be him or his  _body_  . Saying things out loud made them real.

With a  _ding,_  the doors to the nearest turbolift slid apart. She hurried through them without another word.

* * *

 

Anakin groaned. For a moment, all he registered was the hunger gnawing at his stomach—he'd skipped dinner the night before, too busy talking to Tera Sinube about Asajj Ventress, Barriss Offee and the inner workings of the Underworld to bother to eat. Like many things, it sure had come back to bite him in the—

 _Barriss… Offee_ …

As his eyes snapped open, it all rushed back. The fight, smoke poppers, being Force choked—everything. And when the memory of Barriss kneeing Ahsoka in the chest presented itself, he bit back a snarl. He could imagine beating that wannabe Sith to a pulp later—first, he needed to figure out just where the Chaos she'd brought him.

The Knight was surrounded by a barren cell on all sides, the air so cold and damp that even in his heavy Jedi robes he shivered every now and then. A glowing blue Force suppression field kept him suspended in midair, and though he could still sense the Force it merely pulsed around him, almost entirely useless.

He swore loudly and glowered at the walls—not a door in sight. This was going to be one of his harder escapades. Well, it seemed he hadn't been entirely right about there being no door. After a couple minutes, a small section of the wall in front of him slid back, and Barriss entered with two Magna guards in tow.

She grinned at the sight of him. "Hello, Skywalker. How have you been getting along?"

"Actually," Anakin spat, "things were going fine until  _you_  showed up." He glowered down at her, thinking this not only went for the situation at hand, but included the moment Barriss had decided blowing a sizeable chunk of the Temple to smithereens and framing his—now former—apprentice for it was a good idea. But in spite of this defiance, uneasiness lingered at the back of his thoughts. "Where's Ahsoka?"

Barriss' lip curled, as if the very thought of her former friend angered her. "I haven't the slightest idea where your pet is."

While he was glad the box of rocks standing before him hadn’t captured anyone else, he ground his teeth, resisting the urge to tell Barriss the only dog he saw was her. "Where are we?"

Barriss' eyebrows rose. "You act as if I'd actually tell you that," she said, sounding amused. "But if you must know, we're nowhere near Coruscant."

Anakin blinked. She'd taken him off planet. "It'd be nice if you were a bit more specific. It's the least you could do, since  _you kidnapped me_."

Barriss mouth twitched in annoyance. " _Fine_ ," she snapped, pulling her hands behind her back and taking several steps closer to him. "We're on Lola Sayu, in the Belderone sector."

Anakin's breath caught. This was bad—really bad. Located on Lola Sayu, the Citadel was originally a prison built for rogue Jedi. Jedi who'd lost their way. But the Order did value redemption, so you didn't get sent there for getting caught up in your anger a couple times or blatantly ignoring the Council. If that was the case, he'd have been a regular when he was a padawan. The Citadel was for those who had truly, fully fallen—fallen  _hard_.

It was in control of the Separatists now, not that it mattered. Once, on a mission with Ahsoka, Obi-Wan and most of Torrent Company Anakin had actually broken in to rescue the late Even Piell and—this was on the Knight’s list of things he would forever regret—that sleemo, Admiral Tarkin.

Barriss' laughter interrupted his thoughts, and he noticed she was studying his face, closely. "It seems the Hero With No Fear is not so fearless after all."

Anakin glared, giving her the silent treatment for several minutes. "So," he said finally, "it looks like you're Dooku's newest lapdog." He paused, and then chuckled to himself. "You really think he's not going to betray you, like he did all the other ones? Ever heard of Asajj Ventress?"

Seconds later, the tip of a blue lightsaber blade was inches from his face. "Don't speak of things you know nothing about." Barriss sounded as calm as ever, but there was an unmistakable flash of anger in her gaze.

"I never thought you were stupid, Barriss. But I've been wrong before." Anakin snorted.

"And you'll be wrong again," Barriss hissed, deactivating her weapon—or, more accurately, Petro's weapon—and returning it to her belt. "In fact, when this is all over, you'll be  _dead_."

Anakin watched with undisguised amusement as she spun around, long skirt flying behind her as she moved toward the section of the wall he assumed was the door.

When Barriss reached it, the two Magna guards started to follow her. But she held up a hand. "Make him suffer." There was a pause, as if she were thinking something over. "Don't kill him. Not yet." Though he couldn't see her face, Anakin could hear the smirk in her words. As she left, the two skeletal droids activated their lightpikes, the weapons filling the cell with a constantly shifting purple light.

He closed his eyes when they began to advance on him, cloaks billowing. Though he knew it was too late to have any effect, he tried immersing himself in the Force. Mentally, he groaned. Ahsoka had always been better than him at this.

Anakin braced himself as both Magna guards lifted their lightpikes and spun them, drawing their arms back before simultaneously jabbing at his chest. Electricity ripped through his body, and the Knight bit back a scream. After a few more minutes of this agony, he managed to pull together the energy to narrow his eyes at the droids.

"Is that the best you can do?" he demanded, breathing heavily. One could argue taunting machines was futile, if not stupid, but he didn’t care. "Color me unimpressed." He tensed, waiting for the next attack.

They answered his instincts with another synchronized stab to the chest, just as he realized he’d forgotten to close off the bond.

* * *

 

Sleep—Ahsoka had been trying to get some of it all day. Surprisingly, when she entered the Halls of Healing that morning, Vokara Che did not utter a single word. The healer merely sighed, led her back to her room and patched up all her injuries, old and new.

But, just before she left, she had looked Ahsoka right in the eye. "Go to sleep, Former Padawan Tano." The woman said this with a hint of her normal draconian approach to healing, and it was not optional.

Occasionally, Ahsoka  _would_  doze, only to plunge right into a pool of nightmares that seemed to include everything from being found guilty of the Temple bombing and executed to tracking Anakin down and finding his lifeless body. After having what felt like hundreds of those, she'd settled for just laying on top of the covers of her bed, eyes shut.

As she drifted off again, a familiar voice jerked her awake.

_Ahsoka, close it!_

_What?_  She pulled up into a sitting position, trying to make sense of the Knight's panicked words.  _Close what? Anakin, what's going on?_

_The bond, close it, block me out of your head before—_

Ahsoka understood his unfinished request when a wave of agony that was not her own hit her. Collapsing back onto the bed, panting, she placed a hand on her forehead when it happened again. This time, she recognized the sensation.

It was electrocution. Anakin was being tortured.

 _Where are you?_  She had to seal off the bond—Anakin was only getting his own pain redirected back at him through her end of the mental connection—but she needed to know where he was. There was a long pause, and for a moment, she wondered if Anakin had blacked out. Then—

 _I’m still on Coru…_  he trailed off, stopping himself.  _The Citadel, Snips… I'm in the Citadel. Close the bond, now._

Ahsoka stared at the ceiling, horrified. Realizing she was only wasting time, she squeezed her eyes shut and forced up her mental walls. The pain stopped almost instantly. Inhaling sharply, she rolled over, staggering out of bed and to her feet. Her left arm burned in protest, but she ignored this and used it to pull Anakin’s comlink off the nightstand and into her hand. It took her seconds to find who she was looking for in the Knight’s contacts.

"Hello?" Mace answered on the first beep.

Ahsoka sucked in a breath, and then exhaled it. "Master Windu, Anakin… he’s in the Citadel."


	10. Here and Now

“… _the Citadel_?” Mace glanced sharply up and across the table at Obi-Wan, quickly placing his fork on the edge of his plate. “This is troubling. Are you sure—”

“Anakin  _told_  me, through our Master-Apprentice bond.” Former Padawan Tano sounded as if she thought the fact was obvious.

Taking a sip of muja juice, Mace scoffed at this idea—it was impossible for a bond to become strong enough to communicate over such distances after only two years. But then again, he could have sworn on several occasions the pair looked like they were having a conversation without even talking…

After a moment, Obi-Wan pushed his tray aside. “So it seems Barriss  _is_  working with Dooku, or at least the Separatists.” His voice was so low with apprehension one could barely hear his Coruscanti accent. “We must approach this carefully.”

“There’s a difference between careful and  _slow_.” Ahsoka paused, and then quietly added, “Anakin’s being tortured, Master. I felt it.”

“I… sensed that not too long ago myself.” Obi-Wan reached up to stroke his beard. “I’m going to take a swipe in the dark and assume Barriss doesn’t know we’re finally one step ahead of her. Or perhaps she is and we’re already walking into an elaborate trap. But at least we’re sure he’s alive, Ahsoka.”

“But—”

_“_ _Exactly_ , Obi-Wan,” Mace interrupted the girl. “There’s nothing we can do for Skywalker in this moment, but he’s alive—for now—and that’s what counts. Get some rest, Former Padawan Tano.”

An obviously pained, worn out sigh crackled through the comm, and before either Jedi Master could respond, the line went dead.

Mace regarded the device with distaste before putting it back into idle mode. “She’s exactly like Skywalker.”

“Yes, but you can't deny she exercises more than her fair share of control for someone so much like him,” Obi-Wan pointed out, pulling his tray back into place. “Ahsoka's right, Mace—the Council must act soon, or else history shall repeat itself and we'll loose yet another person valuable to the war effort  _and_  the Order.”

Mace glared and picked up his fork, stabbing it through the greens that made up the last of his almost eaten salad. “Our forces are barely holding off those pirate attacks in the Outer Rim, Obi-Wan. What possibly makes you think we could mount an assault against something as protected as the Citadel?”

“The real question is whether we can afford not to.” Obi-Wan frowned. “Barriss is a danger not only to the Jedi, but to the Republic itself. She has already proven just how far she's willing to go.”

At this, Mace stayed silent. All those hours ago, he'd scoped out more of the warehouse on 1313 before following Former Padawan Tano out. Both to give the teenager a moment she so obviously needed and hoping to locate the bodies of Younglings Katooni and Petro. He'd found absolutely nothing aside from all manner of illegal weaponry, and now it struck him that the two children wouldn't be getting quite the traditional Jedi funeral they deserved.

He sighed.  “For all we know, she purposely gave Skywalker incorrect information about his location, preying on the fact he'd relay it to Former Padawan Tano. As you said, it could be a trap.” Mace let the words settle for a few minutes. “But perhaps it's better to spring a trap than have a trap sprung on us.”

“…wise words, those are, Master Windu.” Both Mace and Obi-Wan looked up to see Yoda floating on a power chair across the now empty mess hall, a wry smile on his wrinkled face. It quickly changed into a thin, serious line. “About to comm you both, I was.”

Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. “Is something wrong, Master?”

“Received communications from Master Cin Drallig and the Chancellor's office, I have,” Yoda answered, his voice grim. “Found on the main steps of the Senate Building, Youngling Petro's body has been.”

Slowly, Mace traded a look with Obi-Wan. “What of Youngling Katooni?”

“Left outside of the Temple's public entrance and located by the Temple guards, she was.” Yoda inclined his head toward the large, open doors. “Come with me to the War Room quickly, you both must.”

“Barriss has left another message for us, hasn't she?” Obi-Wan stood with his tray in hand and made a beeline for the row of garbage compactors along the back wall, neatly putting his plate, cup and utensils with the other used items and then stacking the tray itself on top of other ones. As Mace went to do the same, he crossed back over to Yoda, grimacing. “Is it a live transmission or prerecorded?”

“Prerecorded, though sure which is worse, I am not.” Yoda shook his head and turned his power chair to face the exit. Obi-Wan followed.

Mace quickly caught up with his fellow Jedi Masters, matching pace with them. “You've got impeccable timing, Master. We just finished conversing with Former Padawan Tano, and according to her Skywalker told her over their Master-Apprentice bond he has been taken to Lola Sayu.”

Though his hover chair kept moving, Yoda froze as they moved into the hallway and neared the turbolifts. “The Citadel, you cannot be referring to, Master Windu.”

Obi-Wan nodded regretfully. “It seems Barriss is in league with the Separatists.”

“Good, this is not.” Yoda glanced over and squinted at them both, the expression on his face unreadable. “Go retrieve Former Padawan Tano, will one of you?”

“I'll go,” Mace volunteered, walking faster so he reached the lifts before Obi-Wan and Yoda. He pressed the up button on the closest control panel. “I'll meet you both in the War Room as soon as possible.” The moment the turbolift's doors slid apart, he boarded it. “May the Force be with you.”

* * *

 

As Ahsoka thought over her conversation with Obi-Wan and Mace, she rolled her eyes at Anakin's comlink, then flopped back and onto the bed. Had the Council's brains been melted by the war? She couldn't just  _stay_  here—standing aside, so uselessly, would kill her faster than getting shot again.

But there really was nothing she could do.

Still. The longer they waited, the greater the chance Barriss would decide it was time to prove another point. And it most likely wouldn't be by blowing up another building—what better way to weaken the Republic's already threadbare war effort than to get its most effective hero out of the picture?

_Whoosh_.

Ahsoka rolled over at the sound of the door opening to face a frowning Vokara Che.

“Former Padawan Tano, why are you—”

“I couldn't sleep,” Ahsoka said, cutting the other humanoid off. It wasn't why she was awake, but it  _was_  the truth. Without looking away from Vokara, she put Anakin's comlink on silent mode and slipped the tiny device into a pocket on the back of her pajamas. “What's up?”

Vokara's gaze darted to the teenager's now empty right hand, but the healer said nothing for a moment. “You have a visitor.”

“…a visitor?”

“That senator from Naboo—Padmè Amidala, I believe? She's a friend of Skywalker's, I remember her from the aftermath of the First Battle of…” Vokara trailed off at the odd, panicked sound Ahsoka made. “You don't want me to send her in?”

“No,” Ahsoka said quickly, trying to keep her voice calm despite the fact she felt anything but. “I just… yes, send her in.”

“…alright.” Vokara's painted on eyebrows rose and she studied the former padawan, but she then nodded and left anyway.

Ahsoka forced her eyes closed as soon as the woman was gone.  _How am I supposed to tell_  her  _about_  him _?_

Whatever Padmè and Anakin were, they meant something to each other—something not in any way platonic. Something they looked at each other with during glances that lasted far too long, something Anakin used to inadvertently deny when Ahsoka hadn't even  _asked_ , something the pair seemed so sure the rest of the galaxy knew nothing about.

Almost as if in answer to her mental question, there was a quick succession of dainty knocks on the door.

Ahsoka took a deep breath and sat up. “Come in.”

There was a pause, then the  _whoosh_  of the door, the flash of a familiar gold headdress and, finally, a hug so tight it hurt, although Ahsoka was reminded of the one Anakin had given her on Mortis for reasons he never really revealed, aside from a casual  _it's nice to see_  you,  _Snips_.

Once a moment passed, Padmè Amidala drew back, her grin taking up her entire face. It faded slightly once she seemed to get a good look at Ahsoka, but, aside from that, there was another type of worry behind the happiness her eyes held.

She already knew about Anakin—however she knew, she  _knew_  .

But Ahsoka didn't have the heart to start off on a bad note. “Hi, Padmè,” she said, the senator's smile so infectious she genuinely returned it. “It's good to see you.”

Padmè’s gaze darted to Anakin's lightsaber—which Ahsoka had carelessly left on the nightstand—but quickly met the former padawan's. “Likewise,” she replied, sounding far away before giving her head a minuscule shake. “Sorry, it's—”

“—been a long day?” Ahsoka snorted at the former queen's surprised look, pretending she hadn't noticed the lapse in attention. “Yeah… don't ask.”

“Alright, I won't.” Padmè’s grin returned as she stood and strode across the room, perching gracefully in the chair facing the window. “But I  _will_  ask about Christophsis—I heard the CIS tried to invade it and immediately thought about you. Is everything okay?”

_No._

_“Tried_ , but failed,” Ahsoka corrected, still smiling despite her thoughts. “I choose my home planets well.”

“That you do.” Padmè paused, and then that preoccupied look returned. She said nothing for a moment. “If you don't mind my asking, why are you in a medical center… the Jedi Temple med center, no less?”

Ahsoka calmly met the senator's curious gaze. She’d been expecting to be asked this—seen the question coming from a mile away—but it didn't make coming up with an answer any easier. “It's a long story, but… how did you even know I was here?”

“I was in a meeting with Palpatine earlier. He mentioned his office had been blown up and said it was good thing I helped prove you weren't guilty of the Temple bombing, otherwise the Republic would be in need of a new Chancellor.” Padmè paused. “I can't take credit for that, though. I never would have guessed Barriss Offee was the culprit.”

Ahsoka had to keep from raising her eyemarkings at just how good the senator was at getting what she wanted, because the conversation had—however indirectly—turned to Anakin. “…Padmè, look—”

“You don't have to tell me.” Padmè stood again and began to pace the room, pivoting one way before turning another. The action was not unlike Anakin. “Palpatine already did.” Stopping in front of the nightstand, she lifted the Knight's weapon into her hand, but quickly set it back down, pausing before she turned to Ahsoka. “Is… is it true?”

“It is.” Ahsoka looked away and out the window at the pink and orange clouds blanketing the sky, swirled in some places as if a giant paintbrush had been guided through them. “'I'm sorry.'” She nearly choked as she got this out. “That's what he told me right before he was gone, like  _he_  was doing something wrong, and—” She stopped, unable to force more words past the odd lump that had formed in her throat.

Padmè said nothing for a moment, instead following Ahsoka's gaze and watching the early evening sky as it began to fade to a marbled purplish grey. “No one knows where he is now, do they?” She sounded eerily calm as she said this, and continued to take in the view.

“Not… exactly. He's in the Citadel.” When Padmè blanched and glanced sharply at her, eyes wide and mouth pressed shut, Ahsoka decided then and there to leave out the torture related details. “Here, you probably have more right to hold this than I do.” She lifted a hand, and Anakin's lightsaber floated up and into the air before she sent it toward her guest. “I know about you and Anakin. I have for a while now.”

Padmè stared, but reached up and took the Knight's lightsaber into her hand. “He told you?”

“Not really. He's an expert at halving the truth, you know.” Ahsoka shrugged. For a split second, just beyond where she'd gotten shot, she felt a pang in her chest at the thought Anakin didn't  _completely_  trust her. “It just kind of clicked one day.”

“I see.” Awkwardly, Padmè cleared her throat and glanced down at the weapon in her hands. She was quiet for a moment, simply studying the hilt. “We’re sorry about not telling you, Ahsoka,” she said finally, looking up again. “Anakin hated lying to you, and I did too. We just didn't know if—”

“—I'd tell the Council?” Ahsoka couldn't help but snort. “Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. Your secret's safe with me. Besides, you two are perfect for each other.”

Padmè let out a long, relieved sigh. “Thank you, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth to reply, but there was a sharp rap on the door. The former padawan stiffened, though she was forced to recover when Padmè hastily tossed Anakin's lightsaber back to her. “Now's not a good time—”

A familiar voice interrupted. “It's Master Windu. Master Yoda has instructed me to bring you to the War Room.”

Something inside of Ahsoka felt like it had sunk, though the feeling was quickly superseded by irritation. As fast as possible, she got out of bed and stalked over to the door. “I thought you said to rest,” she retorted upon opening it, returning the annoyed glare Mace gave her for the remark and leaning against the door frame. “What's going on?”

Not answering right away, Mace looked over her head and gave Padmè a curt nod. “Senator Amidala.”

“Master Windu, always a pleasure.” Padmè smiled politely back.

Mace nodded once more, and then returned his attention to Ahsoka. “Katooni and Petro's bodies have been found, and Barriss Offee has left another message for the High Council. Yoda seems to be of the opinion you should see it—I agree with him.”

That sunken feeling returned. “I'll be ready in five minutes.” Ahsoka spun on her heel and let the door close behind her.

Looking both concerned and confused, Padmè watched as Ahsoka moved over to her bag and pulled out an outfit without really looking. “Ahsoka, I still don't know why you're in here, but—”

“I got shot helping some clones out on Christophsis.” Boots and clothes in hand, Ahsoka darted into the bathroom. “Clones I now know are apart of Torrent Company.”

“So that's how you ran into Anakin,” Padmè mused almost to herself, her voice muffled through the closed door. Louder, she said, “Are you sure all this is a good idea?”

In the middle of painfully angling her left arm into its sleeve in her grey top, Ahsoka froze. “Come again?”

“Are you sure Anakin would want you preparing to go somewhere as dangerous as Lola Sayu?” Padmè repeated. “Without him? I heard about the first mission there, that you… weren't supposed to go, though it would have failed without you.”

Saying nothing, Ahsoka finished getting dressed. And even after she finally pulled on both of her boots, she stood there for a moment, thinking over Padmè's words. The senator, as much as she would have loved to dispute it, had a point.

Clearly remembering her mission to Lola Sayu with Anakin and Obi-Wan as if it happened the day before, she would have been lying to herself if she didn't admit she always wondered how it would have gone if she hadn't assumed Anakin was only being over protective when he refused to let her go. The Citadel was a dangerous place, especially for Jedi, former or not.

Would Master Piell have even been killed if she'd just followed orders and remained at the Temple? She would never know. But she did know that she couldn't let the past stop her from acting in the here and now.

Opening the bathroom door, Ahsoka stepped back into the bedroom. “I understand what you're saying, Padmè. I know.” She paused. “But I owe Anakin my life, next to you. I can't just let Barriss kill him.” As if to mock her, as if to say  _you couldn't save him if you tried_ , she felt that familiar burning pain run up and down her arm.

“And if nothing's done soon, she  _will_  kill him, won't she?” Padmè closed her eyes, and there was a wave of fear in the Force.

Ahsoka's whole body suddenly felt heavier than it truly was. “Yes.”

“Do what you have to, then.” Padmè opened her eyes, and there was a fierce determination in them now. “I'll see what I can get done in the Senate or with the Chancellor.”

Ahsoka nodded and started for the exit. She paused upon reaching it, her hand lingering on the control panel beside it. “Thanks, Padmè.”

“For what?”

“Just… everything.” Glancing over her shoulder to see Padmè's surprised expression, Ahsoka felt a smile pull at her mouth. “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you, Ahsoka.” Padmè inclined her head.

Taking a deep breath and hoping the Force  _was_  with her, Ahsoka turned back around to face the door, opening it and stepping through.

Mace glanced up from his comlink when the door shut behind her with its usual hiss. “Ready?”

As they began walking down the hall, Ahsoka shook her head. “No, not really,” she confessed, shrugging. “But I probably don't have any other choice.”

“The choices of one shape the futures of all, Former Padawan Tano,” Mace said, his voice more cryptic than usual.

Ahsoka focused her gaze in the distance, silent as she pondered Mace's words. With resolve, she rolled her shoulders back and put on a burst of speed, both arms—despite the fact it hurt—swinging with every step she took. “Then let's do this.”

Focused on the mission at hand and now ahead of the Jedi Master, she didn't see Mace's smile.


	11. Shatterpoint

_Whoosh._

The War Room's doors hissed apart to reveal the central holotable, and as Mace entered, he groaned inside. Over the course of the Clone War, he spent hours of his time in here reviewing battle strategies, sifting through intelligence on the CIS' activities, and holo-conferencing with Jedi out in the field.

More often than not, that information meant depressing updates on the Republic's war effort—such as a Jedi General losing an entire fleet, or civilian casualties outnumbering those of the Separatists.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Mace nodded in greeting at those gathered—Yoda, Obi-Wan, Plo Koon, Saesee Tinn and… Luminara Unduli. Tano crossed her hands and bowed, but suspicion rolled off her and into the Force as she sideeyed the Mirialan.

The Jedi Master returned the girl's gaze, unflinching.

Obi-Wan glanced up from his comlink, ginger eyebrows together in a frown. "Mace, I do believe we have a problem," he said, skipping any pleasantries. "Our technicians just sent over the files of Barriss' message, and… well. See for yourself." He pressed a button on the control panel closest to him.

There was a moment of silence, and then another holo replaced the map of the galaxy hovering over the holotable. Random code scrolled up and down, so fast only the photoreceptors of a droid would have been able to catch it. _What in the name of the Force_? Mace watched as this continued for a couple more seconds, only for the holo to flicker and then fizzle out.

Tano brought a hand down on the edge of the holotable, sending ripples through the blue-tinted image. "Why would Barriss go through all that trouble to send us _junk data_? The technicians must have messed up. Or something."

"Atypical of Temple workers, that is, but the case that seems to be." Yoda breathed a deep sigh. "Sure they will right things soon, I am."

"Perhaps," Luminara ventured, her tone careful and guarded, "we can discuss the details of some of Barriss' latest acts while we wait to hear back from the technicians. Master Kenobi briefed us just a few minutes ago, but there are some things I'm still not quite clear about."

Irritation flashed across Tano's face, but she seemed to force her features into a neutral expression. "I don't see what there is to miss, Master Unduli."

Luminara opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "I fail to comprehend why you, Skywalker and Master Windu together failed to bring her in. Skywalker has beaten her before, and Mace is one of the Order's most powerful duelists. And Ahsoka, although I haven't seen you fight as of late, I am sure you have improved much since Geonosis."

A Jedi does not have regrets, but something that felt much like _guilt_ formed in Mace's chest, the feeling weighing him down. It wasn't often that the Jedi Master was wrong, in his opinion, but he had been painfully wrong about so many things—be it Former Padawan Tano's involvement with the Temple bombing, or just how far Padawan Offee had fallen. It cost the Order one talented Jedi, and now, if the situation didn't brighten soon, what appeared to be another.

Though she was staring Luminara down, Mace could feel Tano's attention was more on him than anything else—

 _Beep_. The holotable's screensaver faded away, the white grid running across its surface beginning to pulse off and on.

Mace glanced down at the nearest control panel. "We're receiving a call from an unknown channel."

"So the comm identification has been blocked, then?" Saesee said, the Iktotchi Jedi Master's piercing gold eyes narrowing in thought. "This war room has not allowed open communications since the days of the Old Republic. Curious."

"Every Jedi and Senator's comm ID is in the Council's database, as is that of Temple security and the Chancellor's office," Plo added. His breath mask hid his expression. "Most curious indeed."

"It's _Barriss._ " Looking as if she wanted to kick them all off a cliff, Former Padawan Tano reached across Mace and slammed a hand on his control panel.

A holo of Barriss Offee sprang into view, her features flat and annoyed. " _Finally_. Is the Council truly so far gone you had to run whether to answer the comm by the Senate—" She cut herself short when her eyes fell on Ahsoka, her annoyance shifting to something more akin to hatred. "…my eyes must be deceiving me, because I clearly remember putting _you_ in a medical bay."

"Better get your vision checked, then." Tano began to cross her arms under her chest, but let out a pained breath and left them at her sides.

Barriss seemed to notice this, but said nothing. She only smirked.

Luminara stared up at Barriss with an unreadable, confused expression. But after a moment her eyes cleared. "Ahsoka… of what does she speak?"

The former padawan didn't respond.

Barriss laughed into her palm—a high, clear sound. "Your ego rivals Skywalker's, Ahsoka," she told the girl, before turning her attention to Luminara. "You should have seen it—I didn't even need a lightsaber to bring her to her knees. Really, the Order would have another dead youngling on their reputation if it weren't for her precious _Skyguy_."

Mace saw one of Tano's slender hands twitch into the gesture for a Force choke, though nothing happened. "What do you want, Barriss?" Her jaw was locked tight. "You were surprised when I was in the Chancellor's office yesterday. This _can't_ be all about me."

"Perceptive, aren't we?" Barriss examined her nails. "But yes, you are a variable, and this was all envisioned before you were in the equation."

Even in his heavy tunic, something about those words were chilling. He assumed this was an elaborate revenge plot against Former Padawan Tano and Skywalker, as well as a way for Barriss to show Count Dooku she truly no longer considered herself a Jedi. For not the first time, he assumed wrong. But if he was incorrect… what _was_ all of this? What purpose did it serve? And how did the Separatists factor into that purpose?

_I've many hours of meditation ahead of me tonight._

Obi-Wan lifted his eyebrows. "Other than getting to those he is close to, there is no purpose in kidnapping Anakin."

"Oh, but there is, Master Kenobi. There is." Barriss paused to give the words weight. "You see, I have… _reason_ to want codes for a hyperspace lane—codes the Republic possess. Codes I'm sure the Jedi Council would be eager to trade for the Order's posterboy."

"…you speak of the Nexus Route," Plo murmured, trading a look with Saesee.

Mace swallowed. Discovered by Jedi Master Even Piell, the Nexus Route was a classified hyperspace lane between the Republic and CIS homeworlds. As was the Order's luck, the Separatists found out about this, ambushing the Lannik's fleet and imprisoning him and his crew in the Citadel.

But even if he did crack as a result of the prison's brutal torture, his intel would have been useless: upon the ambush, he wiped clean his Jedi cruiser’s computers and split the codes with his then-captain, Wilhuff Tarkin. The Council soon organized a rescue mission, with Obi-Wan and Skywalker at the helm. Ultimately, it was a success. Except—

Except Master Piell was mauled to death by an anooba. Except the now _Admiral_ Tarkin hated the Jedi and all they stood for, and declared he would only turn his half over to the Chancellor. Except _someone_ who shouldn't have gone—who stowed away against her Master's orders—shouldered Even's half of the intel, because she was with him when he died.

And now, that _someone_ had left the Jedi Order, and no longer trusted the Council or Republic.

"Have those codes in full, the Republic does not." Yoda peered up at Barriss. "Neither do the Jedi—assure you of that, I can, Padawan Offee."

"Barriss is _fine_ , thank you," the Mirialan snapped, irritated. "And do you honestly expect me to believe that? You are many things, Master Yoda, but a good liar is not one of them."

"…you want us to give you the Nexus Route in exchange for Anakin. Don't you?" Tano sounded as if she didn't even want to know the answer.

"Yes, that would be perfect, though I don't see what _you_ have to do with any of that." Barriss' gaze was calculating, and she seemed to be studying Tano. "Unless…"

"Enough," Mace cut in, in a desperate attempt to distract her. "If this is Count Dooku's way for you to prove yourself to the Separatists, you're out of luck. He's given you a task even he failed to accomplish."

Barriss took the bait, her focus shifting to him. She opened her mouth to reply—

"Barriss, _please_. All of this… it's unnecessary. The Dark side has clouded your perspective, there are other ways to effect change." Luminara's green skin was ashen, as if in disbelief at how far her apprentice had fallen. She shook her head, her headdress swaying.

"I was once of the belief milder methods would be effective. But seeing as my own Master simply told me to _release my concerns into the Force_ —" Barriss let out a harsh scoff, "—I have found ignoring things fails to get people's attention."

Silence fell across the War Room.

"Done are you, Padawan Offee?" Yoda asked quietly, leaning forward in his hover chair.

Barriss narrowed her eyes. "You all have twelve hours to comply and get Skywalker back, or I will turn him over to Count Dooku. And if by some miracle you _have_ discovered his location, any attempts to rescue Skywalker will result in nothing but… well." The Mirialan trailed a finger down the hilt of Petro's lightsaber.

When no one replied, Katooni's lightsaber hummed to life in her hand, and she slashed at something in front of her—her transmitter, Mace realized. The connection broken, her hologram vanished.

Former Padawan Tano stared off into the distance, a dazed hopelessness clouding her features. But she snapped out of it, again reaching across Mace for the control panel.

Yoda cleared his throat as the holotable began to project various previews of all the Jedi Order's info on the Citadel. "Now that concerns the Nexus Route, we know this does, perhaps involve the Chancellor this should."

"…what?" Tano froze. “Master Yoda, none of this has _anything_ to do with the Republic—"

"Except it does, in many ways," Luminara interrupted. "Barriss bombed the Chancellor's office, and her original bombing killed clones as well as Jedi. Clones that were technically Republic property.”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms, bringing up one hand to stroke his beard. "I daresay the last time the Council let the Senate and Chancellor take control of an internal Jedi affair, things went… _off the tracks_." He paused. "Your thoughts on this, Mace?”

While Mace had his opinions on all of this, he was more fond of actions than words, and preferred to leave the talking to more, well, _talkative_ types such as Obi-Wan. The holonet nicknamed his fellow Jedi Master _The Negotiator_ for a reason. "Time is a luxury we do not have right now." He paused for a moment, noticing Tano's slight shudder at the words. "If we _were_ to stage a rescue, we'd be going in blind. The Separatists locked down the entire system after the Jedi's last mission there, and I'm sure security in and around the Citadel itself has increased tenfold."

"Yes," Saesee agreed, lacing his clawed fingers together in thought. "Reconnaissance on Lola Sayu is near impossible for the Republic's spies. And—"

"Incorrect in her statement that nothing to do with the Republic this has, Former Padawan Tano is." Yoda was silent for a long moment. "Because have the other half of the Nexus Route, an admiral in the Republic Navy does. A Jedi matter entirely, this is not."

Sensing shatterpoints was something Mace could do ever since he was only a youngling, a type of sixth sense even other Jedi Masters required years of training and meditation to hone. He could take one look at something or someone and see faultlines, the points of choice and stress that weave the cosmos together.

Points where, hit right, whatever or whoever it was would crumble. And one of the points of this situation had just shattered at Yoda's words.

"All due respect, Master… I don't care if you meet with the Chancellor." Tano's words were laced with durasteel. _Shatterpoint_. "Even if Tarkin gives up his half of the codes, I won't give up mine." _Shatterpoint_.

Mace inhaled a sharp breath. It was one of the unofficial tenets of the Order: one did not disrespect Master Yoda. The tiny being was older, wiser and more powerful—no matter over ten years ago a blood test revealed Skywalker had the highest midi-chlorian in the history of the Jedi, raw ability is nothing without discipline—than any other living Jedi. He had a longview of the current Republic itself, having been born only a century after its formation—Tano's sixteen years, Skywalker's twenty-two, Obi-Wan's thirty-eight and Mace's fifty-two were the slightest blips on his almost millennial radar.

"Former Padawan Tano," Mace warned, quietly. For her sake. He almost placed a hand on her shoulder, but he knew she'd only knock it aside. "Calm down. Nothing is decided yet."

Tano looked away, heaving a shuddering sigh, but no apology fell from her lips. She didn't regret even one of her words, it seemed. "I want to rescue Anakin more than anything," she said. "But I'm not going to throw away everything he and I have fought for… everything the whole Republic has fought for."

Yoda let out a sigh of his own. "Understand this, I do, but as Master Windu said, decided yet, nothing is."

Luminara spoke up. "While I do not advocate giving the Separatists anything, we seem to be forgetting Barriss threatened to kill Skywalker in the event of a rescue mission." She looked directly at Tano. "Have you considered this, Ahsoka?"

"We can do it." Tano's expression was one that said _whose side are are you on_. "We at least have to try—"

"And if we fail?" Luminara pressed. "If we fail, then what? And as for you refusing to give up your half of the Nexus Route, if the Chancellor decided the situation was desperate enough…"

"We _won't_ fail." Tano sucked in a deep breath, not releasing it for a long moment. "And I seriously doubt the Republic has started using torture. Especially on its own citizens."

Luminara's mouth thinned. "No, it hasn't. But with the Emergency Powers the Chancellor has gained over the War, he and his administration have a legal right to intel shared by both the Jedi and the Republic. Intel such as the Nexus Route."

"But I'm not a Jedi." There was a concentrating edge to Tano's voice, and something told Mace to glance down at her hand. _Shatterpoint_.

He nearly choked. The Council kept spare datachips in compartments under the holotable, for when Jedi departing on a mission needed copies of data. Tano had levitated one into the air with the Force, but seemed to make a point of not looking as she did so—which would have made the task difficult for even a more experienced Force sensitive. It wobbled closer and closer to her grasp.

She was going to copy the data on the Citadel still displayed by the holotable. Her distrust of the Council and the Order _ran that deep_ , and Mace just didn't comprehend it.

…although he was starting to understand. He could see the shatterpoints that spidered out from Tano—interstitial lines of fear and distress and betrayal.

The Jedi Master's first instinct was to ask the girl what she was doing. _Shatterpoint_ … but he dared not make this situation worse. Besides, her intentions rang pure in the Force.

So he waited.

"Yes." Luminara nodded. "Which means if your refusal to give up your half of the codes was viewed through certain lenses, you could be arrested and imprisoned on charges of treason or sedition at the Chancellor's behest. And there would be nothing the Council could do."

 _Shatterpoint_.

Tano flinched. Mace saw her hand, clearly shaking with anger and the effort of trying to keep the chip in the air, pull into a fist. The datachip dived, but just as it was about to clatter to the floor, Tano narrowed her eyes at Luminara. The tiny device stilled, hovering above the ground, then zipped up into her hand. She inserted it into a port, and it flashed red, then orange as she braced her hands against the edge of the holotable.

No one had seen. No one but Mace.

"Luminara." Obi-Wan was known for his kindness, his openness, and even now he hadn't raised his voice above its usual tone. But the one word had the force of ten yells. "That is quite enough."

 _Shatterpoint_.

"Is it?" Luminara asked, advancing the issue and ignoring Obi-Wan's obvious warning. "Ahsoka and Barriss are both children whose perspectives are lacking the fundamental understanding that the War does not center around them. And furthermore—"

"In case you've forgotten, I almost got put to death for sedition just two short months ago—after being framed by your precious child of a padawan. And my half of the Nexus Route would have died with me if I was found guilty." Former Padawan Tano's voice cut through Luminara's, cold and clear. "That wasn't a child we fought last night. _Children_ aren't serial killers, and they don't bomb hangars, or kidnap people, or betray the _entire_ Order—her own Master included. You… she…"

And then her anger seemed to fail her, and she seemed to just… stop.

Yoda's already wrinkled brow creased in concern, and he leaned forwards in his hover chair. "Former Padawan Tano? Former Padawan Tano? Ahsoka?"

No response. Mace knew the girl's washed out complexion had nothing to do with the blue-white glow of the holotable. She seemed… _tire_ _d_. Drained. Old.

And none of those were words Mace thought he'd ever associate with the once energetic teen.

A long forgotten image surfaced in his mind: a nervous fourteen-year-old in a tube top shaking with apprehension at summons from the Council, and then nearly bouncing off the walls at the news she was now Anakin Skywalker's apprentice and was to leave for Christophsis immediately.

That heavy guilt was back, a sense his and the Council's actions two months ago had shattered that girl.

"I…" Tano's eyes grazed over Yoda, and she shook her head as if to clear it. The datachip went yellow. "I'm fine."

Yoda glanced at Obi-Wan, then Mace. "…perhaps take a break, we all should."

The datachip blinked green—download complete. Tano called it back into her still shaking hand, then inhaled a breath and whirled to face toward the door.

She left the War Room, no one attempting to stop her. And yet another shatterpoint cracked into white-hot shards.

* * *

 

When the door to Anakin's cell hissed open, he didn't look up. He knew who it was, knew that Force signature—one of the most chaotic he had ever sensed. "What… what do _you_ want—" A shrill, mechanical beep cut him off, and that feeling of sensing but being unable to use the Force lifted.

Only to be replaced with pain as he thudded to the floor.

Dizzy from the fall, the Knight rolled onto his back with a moan. "Ow."

Those Magna guards had left a while ago, taking their electrostaffs with them. Which was good, obviously, as being jabbed at with metal poles for two hours—or an hour, he didn't trust his sense of time anymore—wasn't enjoyable. Much less when those poles crackled with electricity at the touch of a button, because everything hurt tenfold. He could already feel his chest bruising beneath the layers of his tunic.

"You are a pathetic excuse for the Chosen One." The disgust in Barriss' voice brought him back to the present. "Really, I would kill you now if it wouldn't make things considerably harder for me."

Anakin glared up at her, ignoring the nausea surging through him. "I didn't know being crazy was grueling work." Exhaustion slurred the words together.

When Barriss stiffened in rage, he briefly considered using the distraction to drop kick the Mirialan and behead her with her own weapons. But then he noticed the commando droids mere meters away, blasters held at the ready.

_That probably wouldn't end well. For me, anyway._

He waited for Barriss to retaliate, but instead she stooped down to his level. Grabbing him by the chin and yanking him into a sitting position, her nails dug into his skin as she looked him in the eye. "Those who are crazy enough to think they can change the galaxy tend to do just that."

Anakin jerked his head away. It was probably in his mind, but her touch _burned_. "I'm pretty sure it matters if the galaxy's changed for better or worse," he snarled.

"The Jedi Council commits crimes everyday in the name of the greater good." Barriss smirked at the flash of hesitance that crossed the Knight's face at the words. "Light and dark, better or worse… they are mere points of view. You'll do well to—" The high-pitched _beep_ of her comlink interrupted her. " _What_?"

The jerky voice of a tactician droid responded. "Mistress, Count Dooku requests an audience with you. I told him you were occupied, but he has been most… insistent."

"You told him _what_?" Barriss stared down at her comm, furious, and Anakin found it surprising sounds of the droid melting into spare parts weren't audible. "Redirect the signal to the projectors in this room, then. Now!"

"Yes, mistress." The tactician droid hung up.

"Count Dooku, huh? Nervous?" Anakin didn't manage to keep the words from slipping out, snorting.

Barriss' anger flared in the Force. "Put him in binders. Keep away from the holo's sensors until I say otherwise." She turned away as if to pace. But she seemed to force herself into standing still, hands folded tightly behind her back.

As the commando droids descended on Anakin, yanking him to his feet and slapping a pair of binders on his wrists, he couldn't help but think how his captor was still very much Luminara Unduli's student. The Jedi Knight always strove to respect other teaching methods in the Temple—well, at Obi-Wan's insistence, really—but more often than not he failed at it. Because some of them were just plain stupid. Completely ignoring one's emotions instead of trusting them had never been his style—he knew firsthand it only lead to bottled up feelings and general dislike of one's surroundings.

Forcing that type of existence on someone whose well being he was legally responsible for was a terrible, terrible idea. And of course, he'd been right. Maybe Ahsoka _had_ wound up leaving the Order when faced with the same facts as Barriss, but she was a functional member of society. Functional, and _definitely_ not insane.

"My Lord," Barriss said suddenly, curtsying.

Pulled from his thoughts, Anakin's head snapped up, in time for him to see a life sized hologram of Count Dooku flicker into existence. He bit back an insult.

"The tactician droid kept me waiting. Insisted you were… _busy_." Dooku narrowed his eyes, not bothering with a proper greeting. "It seems that was untrue."

A strange, high-strung fear surrounded Barriss in the living Force. "Yes, my Lord, it was… misinformed. I'll have it replaced immediately."

Dooku snorted in a way Anakin decided meant Barriss had lost points on something. "See to it. Now, as to why I've commed you…"

"Anakin Skywalker is here, in the Citadel, and being held under the highest security protocols." Whatever nervousness Barriss harbored seemed to fade away, and she grinned, gesturing toward the droids holding Anakin tightly by his upper arms.

The Knight glared as they walked him forward. "Hello, _Count_. You look worse than usual."

"One could say the same for you, Skywalker. Impertinent as ever, I see." After this, Dooku ignored him, now looking at Barriss with something that was almost admiration. "You have done well. Even some of my best commanders have failed to accomplish such a feat."

Barriss relaxed slightly, albeit in her own tense way. "Thank you, Master—" She stopped, almost as if catching herself.

"I am not your Master yet." Dooku followed the words up with a sneer. "You may have captured Skywalker, but it remains to be seen if you will use him as you need to—or even keep him for more than a day."

"Of… course." Barriss nodded, a little too quickly. "I will report back when I have news, then. Offee out."

After Dooku cut the transmission without farewell, the Mirialan was quiet for a long time.

 _Use him as you need to._ The words crawled up Anakin's spine. He had assumed his abduction was Barriss' way of both messing with Ahsoka and getting revenge on him for proving she was the Temple bomber. But now, it seemed broader than either of those—like he was the key to getting something _Dooku_ wanted.

He made a mental note to tell Ahsoka the next time it was safe to open the bond.

"Well," the Knight said finally, as Barriss started toward the door, "I guess the Dark side isn't all it's cracked up to be." Like all the other times, this didn't appear to get a real rise out of the Mirialan.

Until she outstretched a hand into the air, calling one of the commando droids' weapons into her grasp. The Force shrieked a warning as she aimed and pulled the trigger, a brilliant red blaster bolt screaming a path through the air.

It zipped through Anakin's right leg, and he had to bite down on his tongue to keep a yell from escaping. He felt his leg give, and then the only thing keeping him on his feet were the droids. His vision swam, the world breaking into hundreds of spots.

For a moment, things cleared enough for him to realize Barriss was dangling something in front of his face. It was slender, and its silvery surface caught in the light. And his heart clenched, because _that was Ahsoka's padawan braid_.

He couldn't get out more than an agony-mangled version of the first syllable of the word he was trying to say. _How?_ But he already knew. His utility belt had been taken, and he kept the string of beads on there in a hidden pouch ever since Ahsoka folded them into his hand all those weeks ago.

Anakin tried to stay conscious, tried to keep his eyes on the braid as Barriss began to swing it back and forth. "P-put—"

"Put it down?" Barriss tilted her head. Her tone, expression, everything—they were those of the mild-mannered padawan she once was. "Now, why would I want to do that?"

"…don't… don't…"

"Do not what? Do this?" Barriss let the braid fall to the floor and stepped forward, crushing the delicate beads under her boot. She leaned closer, looking him in the eyes as her act fell away. "The Citadel has a reputation for breaking Jedi, Skywalker. Unless you want me to find reason to see that reputation through, do not test my patience."

Anakin wanted to say something, _anything_ to show her even now, she hadn't won. But the droids let him drop, and everything went dark and quiet.

* * *

 

Ahsoka leaned against the floor-to-ceiling-windows of the turbolift, the transparisteel cool against her back head tail. She shut her eyes as the lift started downward with a jolt, her heartbeat thumping loud and scattered in her montrals as she tried to take in enough air to slow it down.

" _[…] you could be arrested and imprisoned on charges of treason or sedition at the Chancellor's behest. And there would be nothing the Council could do._ "

Her hands began to shake again. Arrested and imprisoned, treason or sedition. The two sets of words had a cold rhythm—hearing them was like a kick to the gut. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't loosen the tangled knot of dread in her core. She couldn't keep her breathing steady, couldn't make her thoughts slow their rapid fire, couldn't make her shoulders relax and unravel their cords.

Because dead, dead, everyone was _dead_. The victims of the Temple bombing, Letta Turmond, Katooni and Petro… life after life Ahsoka could have saved if only she _knew_ , if only she was _there_.

And Anakin was on the shortest possible route to joining their ranks.

The lift came to a smooth stop, and a ding sounded. Reinforcing her mental shields, Ahsoka took one more deep breath and walked out into the Halls of Healing.

The same soft light fixtures from the night before lit the empty atrium, the only sound the quiet rushing of the waterfall behind the front desk. Good. She wouldn't have to talk to anyone.

Any form of running was forbidden in the Temple outside of training areas, but Ahsoka never followed this rule anyway, so upon making sure she was alone she she broke into a jog. But when she reached the actual entrance to the medical bay, she had to stop and place a hand on the wall, just above the security panel beside the door. Moving too fast made her blaster wound ache.

The flat clack of bootsoles echoed across the marble flooring. " _There_ you are. Just in time."

At the thick Twi'Lek accent, Ahsoka snatched her hand off the wall and righted herself, turning to see Vokara Che's nearing form. "…Master Che."

"The Council adjourned early, then? Odd." One of the woman's painted-on eyebrows rose as she came to a stop just a meter short of Ahsoka. "As serious as Master Windu sounded when he came to me for permission to let you attend, I assumed they'd go late into the night…"

… _permission to let me attend_? Annoyed at that choice of words, Ahsoka lifted an eye-marking of her own, but switched the conversation's track. "You said I was just in time. For what?"

Vokara's gaze dropped down to the datapad in her hand. "…bandage change." Muttering something in another language, she sighed. "Well, what are you waiting for? I haven't got all night." She fluttered the fingers of her free hand Ahsoka's way, in a gesture that meant _pick up the pace_.

Forcing herself not to roll her eyes, Ahsoka planted a palm on the backlit scanner set into the control panel, and after a moment, it glowed green and the doors slid into the wall on either side. After that, it only took a couple minutes to reach the room she was staying in.

Flipping on the light, Vokara set her datapad down on the nightstand and moved purposefully over to a cabinet set into the wall opposite the bed, bustling around in it for a few moments.

She blinked at Ahsoka upon glancing over her shoulder, then snorted. "Thank you for your faith in my abilities, Former Padawan Tano, but even _I_ cannot get the job done with that top still on." She pointed at the bed. "Sit."

Trudging over to the bed, Ahsoka plopped down and yanked the garment in question up, working it over her headtails and then setting it aside. She did _not_ want to do this right now. She needed quiet, she needed space to think, to plan, or even talk to Anakin over the bond if Barriss wasn't still torturing him.

"Relax," Vokara said, placing all the supplies she needed on a small table pushed up next to the cabinet, then wheeling it over to the bed. "This shouldn't hurt very much."

Picking up what looked like a bottle of hand sanitizer, she emptied liberal amounts of the gel into her blue hands and rubbed them together. Once they were dry, she snapped on a pair of disposable gloves.

Ahsoka stayed silent, trying to keep still as the Jedi Master knelt and began unwinding the bandages she already had on.

"Hmmnn." Vokara placed the synthetic material into a plastic bag. It was faintly bloodstained. "You know, you never told me exactly what happened with Padawan Offee—I mean, I'm assuming she's behind complicating things, correct me if you just… _tripped_." Mouth pressed into a thin smile, she focused on the gauze covering the girl's wound itself, gently pulling her skin away from the material.

Ahsoka bit down on her lip in discomfort. "No— _ouch_ —no. She… she kneed me in the chest."

Vokara added the old gauze into the same bag as the used bandages, but for a moment, she stilled. "Ah. I see." Taking off the disposable gloves, she sealed them into the bag and placed the whole thing in a larger one. Repeating her earlier ritual with the sanitizer, she quickly replaced the gloves with a new pair.

As Ahsoka watched the healer work, the reality Barriss once tended to someone—lots of someones—with the same skill and care didn't seem much like a reality at all. The only thing that seemed real was the memory of lying bleeding on that warehouse's duracrete floor.

"Barriss—" The girl was caught off guard by the sting of antiseptic as Vokara sprayed the clear liquid several times. She winced. "—did you know her before she fell?"

Not replying, the Jedi Master patted everything dry with a piece of gauze, and then threw it away. Ahsoka was surprised the tiny square didn't get its own bag. "Your sutures need replacing."

Stitches. Oh, joy. "Master Che—"

"I _heard_ you." Vokara's mouth thinned again, but this time it wasn't a smile. "And yes, you are… correct. Barriss Offee is one of the most gifted healers I've ever known, and I've been in charge of overseeing all of them for over twenty years now."

Ahsoka didn't immediately push the point, letting the woman apply a new piece of bacta lined gauze and secure it firmly in place with medical tape.

"Was there ever any sign?" she asked Vokara quietly, as the Twi'Lek unrolled fresh bandages.

"None perceptible to me." Taping the end on the left side of the girl's waist, the Jedi Master began winding the bandages up and around—toward her heart. "At the time, at least."

Ahsoka tried to catch Vokara's eyes, but the woman was focused on her work in a way that rang stubborn in the Force. "…'at the time'?"

The stubbornness faded into resignation. "You… are too young to understand, or remember, but there was a time when the Force was clear. And that time was over ten years ago. Now… now, very few healers can consistently physically manifest the Force's healing capabilities." Vokara called a pair of scissors to her hand, snipping the bandages from their roll. "I and Barriss were two of them."

Ahsoka blinked. "She's still alive, Master Che."

"Giving oneself over to the Dark side has been known to poison a Jedi's healing ability." Setting the scissors down, Vokara reached for the medical tape again and carefully secured the end of Ahsoka's bandages. "It takes considerable amounts of hate and anger to accomplish what the smallest amount of peace and serenity can, no?"

"In my experience, the Dark side can still do a lot of damage in the process." Glad the Jedi Master was finally done, Ahsoka reached for her top. But she found herself staring down at the grey material, bunching and twisting it in her hands instead of putting on the shirt. "What you said about Barriss being one of the best healers… she saw a lot of the worst patients, didn't she?"

"When she was here in the Temple, yes. She was often away on missions with her Master." Vokara paused, curious when Ahsoka stiffened at the mention of Luminara, but continued as she stood. "When she was here, though… she would have killed herself trying to save some of those souls, and sometimes very nearly did."

The former Jedi felt as if the temperature in the room dropped, and in response pulled her top over her head. She ran into a problem trying to get her left arm back into its sleeve.

Vokara rolled the little table back to its original position, and started placing her tools back where they came from in the cabinet. She stilled at Ahsoka's hiss of pain, glancing over her shoulder. "How's your arm?"

"Hurts." Ahsoka gave up on the sleeve, simply laying back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

She felt more than saw Vokara's concerned frown. "Do you need something for—"

"…no." Ahsoka pulled up into a sitting position, and in the nanosecond it would have taken her to talk herself out of taking a nap, angled her injured arm all the way into its sleeve. It burned when she was done. "No, that won't be necessary." She couldn't chance growing any drowsier. Well, she couldn't stay awake for the next twelve hours either, but if she slept now, Anakin would be dead once she was done having nightmares.

Vokara hesitated, but slowly nodded and finished her task, finally disposing of the used bandages and gauze. "…alright." She paused. "I—or a med droid—will check on you in an hour, and I expect you to still be in that bed."

"I'll be here." The lie felt thick and wrong in Ahsoka's mouth, so she dissolved it with something genuine. "Thanks, Master Che."

"You are very welcome, Former Padawan Tano." The Jedi Master nodded again. Force-calling her datapad from the nightstand and into her hand as she turned to go, she began typing notes onto it even as the door slid shut behind her.

Ahsoka was motionless for a long moment, eyes closed as she felt Vokara's Force signature move away. Once she was sure the healer was well and truly gone, she sprang into action.

Leaning over and sliding open the nightstand, she snatched up Anakin's lightsaber and comlink. The hilt of her former Master's weapon was far too big for her hand, but it would have to do, though she couldn't help but miss her own. And aside from that, she had no idea what she was going to do with a lightsaber without a utility belt to hook it on.

But it was better than fighting with Barriss' lightsaber.

As she slipped the comlink into her pocket, her fingertips brushed up against something else. Frowning, she pulled it all the way out and stared down in confusion.

The datachip's tiny indicator light blinked green at her from the folds of her palm. What the—

 _Oh_.

She'd stolen data from the Temple, and barely even remembered the act. And that wasn't even the only thing she'd done. She'd argued with Master Yoda. And stormed out of the War Room minutes later.

Ahsoka wanted to feel guilty. But the former Jedi suddenly felt incapable of that emotion.

She stuffed the comlink and chip back into her pocket and raced over to her bag, ruffling through the contents until she found a cloak: dark and slightly darker green, with an interlocking geometric pattern.

It was no Jedi cloak. But it would have to do.

Putting it on and fastening it, Ahsoka traced her eyes over her room one last time and Force-waved open the door. And as she crossed the threshold, she found herself reaching out into the living Force…

And then a determination matching her own slammed against her sense so hard she almost doubled over. And it was drawing closer, and closer…

 _Master Windu_ , she realized. Mace was on his way. If she was going to save Anakin, if she was going to do _anything_ , she had to get out of here.

But… how? She couldn't chance the lifts, and the wall to her left was a dead end, with an air vent mounted in the ceiling just above it.

Wait. An air vent.

For the first time in forever, Ahsoka grinned. But after a moment, it faded.

 _This is what the Council would expect from a child. Maybe…_ She hesitated. _Maybe I_ should _be here in an hour. Maybe I should be lying down when Master Windu arrives…_

Ahsoka ducked back into her room, smiling. Quickly removing her cloak and boots, she set them aside, slipping Anakin's lightsaber into the right boot, and then crossing over to the bed. Sliding between the covers, she pulled them over her head.

_Maybe I could use an hour nap… and a little misdirection._


End file.
